Archive of Our Own

Chapter Text

The honmoon glittered over the city. If she allowed it, Rumi could convince herself she could feel it pulsing, something warm and strong in it like an embrace.

They had won.

Gwi-Ma was gone, never to return given the strength of this new barrier between worlds. The people at Namsan had been saved, surprisingly unscathed. Huntr/x was more popular than ever and, behind the leather and the TV screens, had never been more happy with one another. There were truly no more barriers between them, now.

Only she couldn't help also seeing what they had lost. The hundreds of people just gone, souls already siphoned down to feed the Demon King. The furor over the disappearance of the Saja Boys had died down somewhat, but occasionally Seoul got nostalgic and Huntr/x ended up competing with them in the charts again. Which felt very odd. Bobby, unassuming genius that he was, took Zoey's panicked explanation of Namsan being a charity concert for the missing people and had turned it positive, at least. According to the world, the conspiracy was that Huntr/x had sourced the Saja Boys to stage this big battle as a publicity stunt, getting as many donations for missing people in Korea as they possibly could in the process before the Saja Boys melted back out of the spotlight. TV hosts would sometimes ask them coquettishly where they were keeping 'their Saja Boys', which Huntr/x obviously charmed themselves through, but Rumi knew none of them enjoyed it.

For all that they hadn't really known each other at all, there were still spaces where each of the Boys should have been. Directly after Namsan, Rumi had spent tearful days wrapped up between Mira and Zoey on the sofa telling them through mouthfuls of kimbap and ice cream about Him and the truths and lies he told, what it had done to her confidence that they were doing the right thing, to the black and white idea of humans and demons. They had never seen anything redeeming in any of the Boys but Him, yet somehow that question hung over those four specific demons like no other. Zoey had decided it was because they were hot. Rumi couldn't quite believe her.

Because then, of course, there was Him. His absence cut the deepest, too full of what if's and regret, missed chances and desperate hope to ever lie quietly. Through it all was the new, whining hum of her sword, curved and engraved now in a way it had never been, like the others. They didn't really know, any of them, what the soul He had given her (keep it together, Rumi) had done. Had it truly become her weapon, had it also fed into Zoey and Mira's, whether it was the first glue that started pulling everybody else's hearts in to create that new honmoon, any of it. Zoey had once suggested asking Celine, but something about Rumi's face (which was far harder to control, these days) and Mira's flat "No" made it the last time she did.

So yes, in moments like these, too late at night when she couldn't sleep, when she'd left their warm, full bed to come outside to the balcony and brood? On nights like this she found it difficult to see what they had gained through what they had lost.

Only then, making her jump a little, there were arms wrapping around her waist. Lean, corded arms covered in shapeless fluffy sleeves that crossed over her stomach and pulled her backwards. Like they'd practiced it, Zoey took the opportunity to shimmy between Rumi and the railing, threading her arms through Mira's somehow also around Rumi's waist and leaning up on tiptoes to rest their foreheads together. She felt Mira's chin rest on her shoulder to press her cheek against Rumi's cheek and had that , wonderful sensation of not quite knowing where any of them ended or began.

"Derpy knocked the lamp over." Zoey whispered in explanation. It was a truly staggering coincidence how often Derpy did that when Rumi thought she'd managed to get some alone brooding time to get really miserable. Relaxing back into Mira's chest, she breathed in both of them and decided she didn't mind. More than didn't mind actually. The cold contemplation of loss and absence was brushed away like so much dust by the warmth and strength of these two women - a warmth so complete it was breathtaking.

She suddenly needed to see Zoey's face, really see it. It felt like such a short time ago that she wouldn't allow herself this - to be so relaxed with them, let them touch her the way they really wanted. The way she really wanted them to, not just the snatched, calculated risks she used to take when she couldn't bear not being in their arms anymore.

She raised her hands, brushing the backs of her fingers over Zoey's cheeks only to thread them gently through Zoey's hair and tilt her head back. The gentle smile on Zoey's upturned face was heart-stoppingly lovely, her eyes wide and dark and so, so open. Rumi watched those eyes take in all of her own face, including the patterns barely visible on her skin. The only reaction she saw was Zoey's smile getting wider, warmer, her body pressing forward against her. How in all the turns of hell had Rumi managed to deserve this? How could she possibly accept having all of this, being so full with both of them?

There was a slow but insistent press of Mira's hips against hers, like a question. Rumi remembered what Mira had said when she'd tried to explain this feeling to the both of them. How Mira had looked at her in that way that had Rumi's brain flooding with memories of taming a wayward, hurting, jagged-edged young woman into someone who would accept the love Rumi and Zoey so desperately wanted to give her. What she had said was the only real way to address it.

So she smiled, a heat in it that sparked a little light in Zoey's eyes.

"Take me to bed." She whispered, smoothing a thumb over the shell of Zoey's ear.

Zoey beamed like the sun had just lit up behind her face and she leant in to press a searing kiss against Rumi's mouth. At the same time there was a heated nip of teeth at the nape of her neck coupled with an approving little grunt. It was all the answer she needed. Well. The beginning of the answer anyway. The honmoon and it's night of absences could wait.

By the time they reached the open glass doors to the master bedroom they were a tangle of limbs and kisses, teeth and soft laughs that turned into hitched breaths. The forgotten honmoon glittered and sang over the city.

Apart from where it screamed.

Chapter Text

They slept late the next morning. To be fair, Rumi had got up and made them all coffee, but when she'd come back Zoey had waited until she'd put the tray on the bedside table and then bodily locked all of her limbs around her and pulled her back to bed. Mira had kind of assumed they'd all go back to sleep at that point, but apparently Rumi was taking her leadership role very seriously that morning and decided to repay Zoey's misbehaviour with a dose of her 'favourite friend'. Honestly, Mira didn't know how Rumi could somehow reach beneath the bed and unerringly find the one toy she wanted from their secret stash - the woman was an enigma. Mira had ended up with a desperate Zoey wriggling in her arms though, so she hadn't minded. In the slightest. In fact she hadn't minded so much that when Zoey was a sweaty, spent mess she'd rolled her off herself and pulled Rumi in so they were sitting facing each other with their legs around each other's waists, anchoring the toy between them until neither of them could bear it. And then a little more. Rumi was laughing and breathless as she fell back into Zoey's waiting arms and Mira couldn't remember being happier. She was so used to Rumi finding a way to not end up in a naked tangle, it still didn't feel real that they could just sandwich her between them and hold her till she swatted at them both for making her too hot.

Then, unfortunately, it was time to dress for the suits up at the label's office.

They hadn't officially taken a break, like they'd promised, but they weren't releasing songs either. Bobby had them on a relatively steady schedule of talk-shows and appearances. Rumi had floated the idea of an acoustic album not long after Namsan which Zoey had leapt on - they were working on a few versions of their songs that they'd take on air, like on some western radio shows. Mira was finding it surprisingly difficult, she hadn't realised how much she relied on the mixing to make her feel as bad-ass as she sounded. Rumi had given her quite a few one-on-one studio sessions to help her with her confidence. Some of them they'd even done a few good hours work before Mira inevitably jumped her. She couldn't seem to get enough of having Rumi under her hands at the moment. Either of them, really, but especially Rumi. Not because she cared about her more, it was just that she was the one they'd come closest to losing. Either to her patterns or that demon boy Mira refused to name. Zoey had said she was being overly-simplistic and petty about that one. Mira didn't care. She didn't know what to make of whatever Rumi had found with Him so she had decided to deploy her Mira-Number-One-Way-Of-Dealing-With-Shit-She-Didn't-Like:

Not think about it.

Or the variant: Not think about it and drag Rumi close to her any chance she got because it hadn't been that Rumi didn't want her it was because Rumi had been keeping a secret. She hadn't dared voice the relief she'd felt that that's what it had been - it wasn't about her yet. When she and Zoey had banished that unsure look in Rumi's eyes, the slight flinch when they walked in on her naked and she wasn't expecting it - then, she'd tell her. Up until that point Mira wasn't sure if Rumi would feel guilty or not and she didn't want that. They had time now. They all had time.

Apart from when it came to the demons. Which were far less fun and more concerning. Whatever had happened at Namsan that night had not only cut any demon off from going back to hell, but also done something to them. Whatever demons that were stuck on this side were absolutely crazed now. Rabid. There weren't as many of them, but that was more than a good thing. The demons there were didn't speak, they weren't cunning or calculating or even creative. They threw themselves at people, desperate for their souls. It was only the fact that human science and technology seemed to have a repellent effect on them that meant one demon wasn't enough to take out an entire town overnight. Even so, there were too many 'bus crashes', 'sink holes' or 'mudslides' across Korea for any of them to rest easy. Only they were just demons and they couldn't track them all, not if they were far away. They felt blind.

Not only that, but the three of them were hesitant now. Rumi had stopped talking about Him barely a week after Namsan, but when she was talking about Him, it was never just about Him. Mira hadn't been seeing things, Rumi had been asking demons if they were being forced, had started questioning whether or not they were doing the right thing. Which they were, Mira had no doubts, but the reality of the job was suddenly a lot heavier. What made Him different? Did anything make Him different or was it just the choices He made? Things weren't simple anymore and Mira didn't like it. Suddenly travelling the country taking out these crazed demons felt less like hero work and more like mopping up. Especially now that the demons didn't even put up a good fight, just hurled themselves at Huntr\x till they were cut down - the job just wasn't fun any more. Felt kind of dirty at times, if she was honest.

Zoey seemed pretty unaffected by the whole thing, which didn't surprise Mira in the slightest. Rumi was quiet and contemplative, but at least she was looking at Mira again, sharing those glances that said that they were on the same level. Mira hadn't realised how much she'd missed those.

They were sharing one now, as it happened, sitting in the middle of the back seat of the limo, looking over Zoey's head. The radio was on and the news had just finished a report on a gas explosion in a block of flats in Daegu. They'd found that particular demon in the basement, literally crawling the walls with way too many legs, just screaming at everything. Howling its rage at the concrete, its own hunger, the three of them - there had been nothing sane in those eyes, (however many of them there had been) just fury.

She squeezed Zoey's arm to her a little. They'd linked arms when they had got in, better for Zoey to scribble down in her notebook (Mira couldn't tell if it was the current song-lyric notebook or the Bubblegem fan-theory notebook - both were sparkly). Only Zoey had also really wanted to run her fingers over Mira's wrist, so the hand Mira had in Zoey's lap held one side of the notebook steady, lifting her thumb to allow Zoey to occasionally turn a page.

"I wish we could find a way to discover them before they do that much damage." Rumi said quietly. It wasn't the first time.

"Well I wish we knew how to get those souls back," Mira responded. It wasn't the first time she'd said that, either. "I mean, now that we know they're not going to Gwi-Ma, where else are they going…"

"I still think they have to be in the demons themselves, that's why they're so strong." Zoey mused, not looking up. "Maybe those demons are so crazy 'cos they have so many people up in there."

"But when we kill them, nothing comes out. We tried that."

"I even chopped that one's head clean off, remember?" Mira added, "Nothing."

"That was only one method, though." Zoey mused. "There are still a bunch of things we can try whilst vanquishing them, I've been coming up with a few."

Rumi and Mira shared a look again. They both knew what 'a few' could mean.

"Why have you got your demon vanquishing list in your song lyrics book?" Rumi asked eventually. Zoey looked at her like she had suggested jumping in an ice-lake naked.

"I haven't. This is my Post-Namsan-Demon-Slayage book. See? It has the unicorn, the other one has the bunny with a mushroom hat."

"But you were just…"

"I swapped."

Mira looked down at her own hand, which had technically been holding said song-lyric notebook and now, just as Zoey said, seemed to be holding the pages of the demon slaying notebook.

"When did you…nope. Never mind."

Zoey laughed and shook her head at them both like they were the crazy ones before starting to scribble again. There was that little look again, Mira thought, as she caught Rumi's exasperated gaze over Zoey's head. Only then Rumi bit her lip against a smile and discreetly gestured at what Zoey was writing. Mira looked down.

Operation: Get Eaten People Out of Demons and Back into Their Bodies

Code Name: SoulVomit

'I'm so in love with this crazy woman', Mira thought to herself, reaching over to lace the fingers of her still-free hand with Zoey's. The fact that Rumi had leant over and planted a wet kiss directly on Zoey's temple (which made her giggle and squirm rather deliciously) told Mira she wasn't the only one thinking it.

Bobby was his usual mix of concerned, excited and affectionate when they met him at head office. Rumi and Zoey had long ago worked out that if Mira was allowed to talk to suits, suits would end up leaving the office in tears, so she was hoping to just nod off when they arrived. She was vaguely listening - something about pushing for the acoustic release, Rumi said it wasn't ready, but when would it be ready, ratings, relevance blah blah blah. Honestly if it didn't save the world Mira would seriously consider giving the whole thing up. Her plan to snooze was thwarted, however, by Rumi and Zoey taking full advantage of the fact that Mira had the best poker face of them all. If it wasn't Zoey sending truly, truly filthy messages to the group chat it was Rumi's besocked foot sliding dangerously close to the Point Of No Return between Mira's thighs under the table. Bobby glared at them all for a moment before covering for it, of course. This wasn't his first rodeo.

What this ultimately led to was a very frustrated Mira storming out of the office a few hours later with her two wayward band-mates in tow, heading directly for the lift that would take them back down to road level. Because once they were at road level they could get into the car and once they were in the car that cut down the amount of time it would take for them to get home and once they were at home…

Mira decided, as she subtly hitched up the back of Rumi's jeans hard enough she heard her fearless leader whimper a little, that she was ok with how satisfied it made her to put that particular look on Rumi's face. And if there was a little pettiness there, centred on how Rumi had for a moment felt that she could go to whole stupid man for this, then Mira was ok with that too. Not many people could get Rumi of Huntr/x begging - she now considered herself a professional.

She was perfectly happy crowding a now blushing Rumi against the lift wall when their phones all vibrated at the same time and she would also have been happy to ignore it if it weren't for Zoey.

"Guys, it's Celine. She needs to talk, now."

Mira was close enough to Rumi to watch her shut down in front of her. The blush receded and that coolness Mira always hated descended on her face. The fingers that had been (ever so slightly) trembling on Mira's arms turned firm as she moved her away.

"If she needs to talk then we should answer."

Mira ground her teeth. Celine was mentor to all of them and Mira had had certain desires frustrated by that damn phone before, but it hadn't bitten so hard before. It hurt Rumi now and that made an old, familiar rage burn immediately in the pit of Mira's stomach.

Zoey quickly punched in the floor number of the studios and they entered the lobby, passing a couple of wide-eyed trainee groups with bows and smiles before shutting the door of one of the practice studios behind them. Rumi went to sit on the bench in the tech room, Mira and Zoey sitting either side of her like it was their place. Because it was, especially now.

Celine looked tired when she answered the video call. A tiredness that only increased when she saw Rumi. Mira couldn't care less.

"I'm sorry to disturb, I know you are busy."

"We are." Mira replied before Rumi had a chance to. Mira hated how Rumi still frowned a little at her before turning back to the phone.

"What do you need?"

"It's less what I need, girls. I have heard from our contacts."

That got them sitting up. Over the many decades the Hunters had made friends across the country. With the honmoon now in an unprecedented state and demons acting strange, Celine was co-ordinating information from everyone she could. "It's not just the big cities." she continued, her voice melodious even through the phone. "Smaller towns are being affected as well - the incidents that our friends have investigated have all started with a few odd disappearances before an inevitable escalation. These demons aren't concerned with getting as many souls as they can before you arrive - they seem to be working on opportunity alone. Like wherever they were when the honmoon was sealed is where they begin."

"Don't people see them?" Zoey asked.

"They do. Either they attribute it to trauma or the doctors do."

"How does this help us, Celine?"

Rumi's voice was cold and Mira should have liked it.

"Honestly, Rumi, I don't know. There's more detail that I've sent over but I realize that all this really does is tell us that no disturbance is too small to investigate. Perhaps the more tangible information is the universal feeling that the honmoon is acting strangely."

"Strangely? How?"

"Our people are reporting that they can hear it, sometimes even the untrained ones - the pulse is steady, stronger than it has ever been, but there is something discordant in it. The reports taken from survivors of the attacks say the same thing."

"But," Zoey began, "Isn't that how we track groups of demons? I thought only we could hear that."

"Exactly," Celine replied. She was effortlessly graceful in her day-coat and reminded Mira of one of her aunts. "People who are not trained should not be able to hear the honmoon at all. The few of our friends who are mediums say that the sound is not one they've heard before, either. This is something new. Listen for it. Anything we can do to help you find these creatures before they do harm we must harness."

Mira hated it when Celine told them to do things they would have done anyway. Did she think they were still novices at her country home?

"Thank you for the information, Celine. We'll read the full report later and put it to good use."

"Of course you will. I have no doubts."

There was a warmth in that voice now and, suddenly, it wasn't appropriate. This was how it always was with Celine these days - if they were talking shop it was just about fine, but any straying into moments like these, when any of them remembered that they were supposed to be family? It always ended in an awkward silence. Like this one. Mira felt it wash over her like an old friend - it reminded her of breakfasts at home at the weekends. Celine broke it first this time. "Rumi, I…"

"Thank you Celine. We'll be in touch if we need anything."

The call was over before they could see Celine's reaction and Rumi slowly put the phone down to rest it on her knees. Mira didn't need to co-ordinate with Zoey for them to reach for her at the same time. Zoey went straight for a hug, but Mira took one sideways look at the rock-solid set of Rumi's shoulders and decided just to take her hands instead.

"Well done." she said, simply. Rumi looked at her and for a moment all Mira could see was pain - betrayal and regret and yearning and grief. Grief more than anything else. Only then it was gone and Rumi's shoulders slumped, her weight finally falling back against Zoey. She smiled, tired and sad and let go of her phone to squeeze Mira's hands, bring them up to her soft mouth to kiss them. She nodded her thanks rather than saying it, but Mira knew she understood. Zoey didn't butt in, knew that Mira could give comfort and strength here more naturally than she could, so she just burrowed her nose into the hair at the back of Rumi's neck. Sometimes these things just sucked and trying to make it feel better didn't help. Because that's when you start apologizing again - apologizing to them, or for their behaviour - either way it put you right back where you'd just come from. Sometimes it was too late for that. Sometimes things had been said that couldn't be unsaid, truths brought to the surface that couldn't be ignored any more.

Mira just wished Rumi wouldn't hold all the pain in all the time. She'd take just seeing it, after everything, but she was beginning to worry that Rumi was bottling it all up again.

"So," Zoey said, very softly, after a few moments (during which Mira had scooped Rumi's legs up so she was all but cradled in their laps). "Shall we try?"

"Try what?" Rumi asked, sounding as tired as she looked.

"Try listening for the dud chord in the honmoon."

"We've never really listened to the honmoon before," Mira said. "It's been about the singing of the honmoon."

"But we always found the chords in it," Rumi pushed back. "Yes, we were finding the harmony in each other but if we can make it, surely we can listen back."

"Yeah, like listening back to a track you've just put down. Exactly that!" Zoey added as she leapt up, forgetting that she was holding Rumi up. There was a thud and a very unladylike squawk of surprise as Rumi's back hit the bench and Mira hid a snort as she glared up at Zoey. "Sorry! It's just that I've figured out how we're going to do it!"

Chapter Text

Dusk and dawn had always been the best times to interact with the honmoon, Celine had drummed that into them right from the beginning of their training. Mira vaguely understood why - something about the honmoon being ever-changing to the world and dawn and dusk being periods of change. She remembered that Zoey had got really witchy with it for a while, insisting on lighting candles and incense. She certainly remembered being dragged from bed to head up to the top of the mountain to 'see in the dawn'. Luckily Rumi had also been dragged from bed and always managed to both persuade Zoey that true Wicca 'saw in the dawn' through sex and also somehow made sure there was hot tea waiting for them when they got back. These days, of course, Mira could see how it was much easier to hide patterns if you're all basically in cold weather gear.

Today saw them on the top of the tower, the sun dipping below the glittering towers of the city long before it hit the horizon. The shadow of Namsan was already long, its hill a patch of deep purple all the more stark for the artificial lights surrounding it. Mira could never get over the beauty of Seoul. She'd never really lived anywhere else, unlike the other two. She always missed it when they were away.

They sat on the roof, thick jackets on against the breeze, cross-legged and close enough to touch. They rested their hands on each others' knees, one over the other so that they were all connected, palm to palm, fingers lacing lazily together. There was no tension here, no grabbing of each other or holding on. They were here and together, they could relax into that. Rumi had suggested they start with the basics and Zoey had dived into her pool of notebooks until she'd found the right one, saying that she'd changed the lyrics and giving Rumi a hard, affectionate look that dared her to disagree with it. Rumi didn't. So, new words quickly memorized, they began to sing.

We are Hunters, voices strong.

Hearts arising from our song…

It took a round or two to really find themselves. Mira finally tore her eyes away from her city to close them, hear Rumi and Zoey's voice around her, inside her so now she really wasn't sure where she ended and they began. It was no surprise to any of them that it had been after such an exercise that they'd finally fallen into bed together. It had just felt like a natural continuation of the song.

She felt Rumi lift them, her harmony rising and splitting their voices for the first time. Mira shifted next, leaving Zoey with the melody, to spread downwards where Rumi reached up. Each verse they sang they gained strength, each harmony twining around the other like lovers. In pulses Mira would feel her voice pressed against Zoey's, a leading note making it almost too much to bear until they parted again, only to mirror Rumi's, the pure sparkle of an octave leaving a feeling in her heart like the first sharp intake of breath as pleasure bloomed between her legs. It was sensual and sacred this song of theirs. And it was only theirs.

As planned they let it build. Build until Mira almost felt like she was shouting at the sky. It almost physically hurt to stop and now they gripped each others' hands, held on as it felt like they fell weightless from those heights whilst trying to listen. The echo of their song was more than audible - it clung to the honmoon and shivered down its strings of light like a living thing, still part of them. Perhaps it was. They listened for the return, for their song to race along those paths of power until it came right back to them. Which it did, rushing through them with an intensity that stole her breath and sent caresses of sensation down every nerve ending she had before springing off over the city again. From the way Rumi and Zoey were squeezing her hands she wasn't the only one feeling it.

They all flinched towards each other as one of the echoes finally hit something. Their harmonies soured immediately, like a piano lid slamming down on the keys in the middle of a concerto, only the vibrato now carried it back towards the tower. In that wave of sound was something that Mira thought was a voice until it crashed into them and she realized it was a scream. Long and raw, a song until it was a wail, a howl filled with a pain so jagged and acrid it burned her ears as she heard it and scorched her throat like it was her own voice. She instinctively curled in on herself and reached for her girls, their knees drawing up until they could wrap arms round each other's shoulders and press their foreheads together.

It was almost too much, even then, Mira's breath feeling tight and caught in her chest. They all screamed in a very un-hero-like manner when a huge furry head suddenly shoved its way in between them, Mira feeling distinctive little bird-claws digging into her skull and a soft weight nestling in the dip between their heads. The sound didn't lessen, but her breath loosened a little, her consciousness returning enough to her body to really feel the girls under her hands, grounding. Vaguely hoping the others had their eyes closed, too, she turned and buried her face into Derpy's soft cheek and breathed. It was a testimony to how shaken she was that she didn't even mind the fact that one of his tusks was basically up her nose.

Eventually the voice began to ebb, fading out into its own echo. Mira found her breath again, feeling Rumi and Zoey doing the same under her arms and in the puffs of air on her face. The strange cold-hot comfort of the demon creatures seeped into the space the wave left behind, but Mira could hear it ricocheting back along the honmoon away from them, leaving a trail of shivers behind it.

Her hunter instincts locked in - she reckoned she could tell which way it was retreating.

Zoey let out a cry as she pulled away, running towards the edge of the roof in the direction the echo was disappearing in and reaching the railing just as it vanished. Her heart sank. Of course it was in the direction of Namsan.

She let out a long breath and turned to the others as the last echoes of it faded away, unsettling, into the more mundane hum of the city. She imagined her eyes were as wide as theirs.

"Guess that was a demon, then." Zoey said finally, lamely.

"I almost hope it's a particularly powerful one, if they all sound like that I'm never going to sleep again." Rumi added. Mira noted she was still clinging to Derpy like a limpet. She herself reached up and idly scratched Sussie under his demonic chin as he settled himself between her ponytails. Right now even she wasn't going to argue about how comforting it was.

"Well, either way I suggest we dress for a night out." she said, warming to the task as it dawned upon her that action wasn't far away. Now that the fear was gone, all the adrenaline running through her was turning to that tempered determination she had eventually forged from her rage.

The other two looked at each other, then her.

"Why?" they asked in unison. Mira grinned grimly.

"'Cos we're headed to Myeongdong."

They stared at her for another heartbeat or three. Mira watched as two very different expressions spread on their faces and then they were speaking at the same time.

"Oh god it's a summer evening Myeongdong will be packed!"

"Ooh, do you think there'll be time to get tteokbokki?"

Rumi and Zoey bickered behind her as they descended to the penthouse ('How can you possibly be thinking about food at this time!?' 'I'm sorry, Rumi, it's just we skipped lunch to practice…') and Mira noticed that she was feeling a lot more confident about this part of the process. Yes, yes Celine, Zoey and Rumi had all helped her with her confidence in her voice but she was far happier in the dance breaks. Or with the weight of her glaive in her hands.

There was a familiar rhythm to when they got ready. The bickering would pipe down and a reverent hush would come over them as they started to change out of their normal clothes. A hush that inevitably turned to bright eyes and breathless smiles and then the talking would begin again. Only now it would be about blade sharpness and calluses on their hands, the aphrodisiac qualities of the smell of leather and 'can you help me do up these many zips?'. She adored them as a girl-group, she loved them as warriors. This time was no different, only there was a thread of nerves in them that was more pronounced than it usually was. Was this what all demons sounded like? They thought not. Did they think they'd actually get a good fight out of it this time? They hoped they would. Finally, they stood together after giving each other the final once over and each reached out to coax a strand of the honmoon to their will, a final check turned into a sort of ritual.

Mira still felt the extra weight of the curve on her glaive's blade, less frustrated with it now than she had been a few months ago after Namsan. She'd trained with it for days and couldn't deny it was more beautiful than it had ever been. All of their weapons were. Looking at them all, leather and sharp edges cast stark in the light of the honmoon singing through their weapons, she couldn't even care who might be responsible for that new aesthetic. It was theirs now.

One of the private elevators took them down past street-level to a maintenance hatch in the subway. After a moment of listening, they sprung out of the door and hitched themselves onto the sides of the passing Number 4 train. Mira felt her excitement rise as the lights sped past, disorienting, familiar enough with the path that they scuttled up to the roof before the next stop and pushed off up the vent as they passed it. She'd prepped her glaive to hit the manhole cover blunt end first and they shot up into the now dark evening, glancing off electric poles up the hill until they hung on a window ledge looking down into the main street. Myeongdong, as it always did, was lighting up as the sky above it faded to black and neither of the girls had been wrong - the crowds had already begun building and the street food smelled amazing.

Her mouth watering at the thought of hotteok, she cast her eyes around. She was expecting to have to split up to find the demon, but Rumi caught her arm almost immediately and pointed to one of the beauty boutiques. Above the open shop doors, caught in the liminal shadows between the French-style sign and the wall, was a figure barely distinguishable from the shadows it hid in. Warped and smaller than she expected, Mira could hardly figure out the shape of it. Rumi had always had the best eyes.

"How do we do this?" She asked, low.

"We have to get it away from the crowd. If it's just hanging there it's not completely mindless yet." Rumi responded.

"So we scare it, right?" Zoey finished. "Hope it goes somewhere less occupied?"

"Hope," Rumi scoffed, something a little too bitter in her voice. "I guess hope is all we have."

"So let's go." Mira decided for them and stood, curling her voice up in her throat and silently sending it hurtling towards the skulking demon. She intended for it to freeze, look up and see them - even a mad demon knew when they were looking death in the face.

That is not what happened.

Instead the figure immediately curled its body in on itself then snapped it open with a screech. A hideous, percussive scream that blew out half of the lights in the main street and sent the crowd screaming and running for cover. The hunters watched in horror as it clambered, spider-like, along the building, something slightly but hideously too long about all of its limbs. Mira was just thankful there were only four this time.

The three of them recovered from their frozen moment of surprise together and (after a few choice curses in both Korean and English) leapt after it, springing between buildings to propel themselves along. The demon, still somehow in shadow despite the jagged neon lights (Mira wished she could get a visual hold on it, she was a professional medium for god's sake), whipped between people and signs and food carts like a mean-spirited wind. They almost missed it, darting down a smaller alleyway, but Mira grinned to herself when it did. She'd spent too much time here in her rebel-teen days not to know where they were headed and started stretching out her long legs, pushing forward from the others to head it off at the main road. As she had predicted, the demon swerved out into the wide causeway, pivoting desperately out of the way of her spinning glaive with a roar of fury as she got in its way. Zoe and Rumi, trusting her knowledge of the city, had blocked the other way out, forcing the creature forwards.

At the base of the tower block in front of it were a pair of metal gates, flimsy enough the demon ripped them open easily and skittered into the tunnel beyond. A tunnel that ended in one of Seoul's many hidden concrete car parks. The beast was obviously tiring, slamming from one wall to another as it ricochet around the walls. There was an electricity generator in one corner and Mira gritted her teeth against the graunching of metal against metal as the demon forced its way inside the protective chain fence only to find itself trapped, broken fence behind it and tall, solid concrete in front. It did the only thing it could do and lurched upwards, only to find Rumi at the top of the concrete wall, swinging out at it with her sword. It dodged, but only just, crashing back to the ground. Mira readied herself for it to hurl itself her way and saw Zoey to one side of her, Rumi not quite prepared to jump down to it but perfectly balanced and ready to do so in a second.

To her surprise it didn't go for any of them, but rattled around the make-shift cage until it skidded to a halt at the back of it, bracing itself against the two corners of wall, legs scraping the ground as it tried to press itself further and further into the concrete. Either it was too crazed to think of dissipating, or it couldn't.

Mira and Zoey darted closer, shimmying carefully through the sharp, jagged edges of the fence. As they did so, it screamed again. Properly. Only this time they weren't half a city away. It tore at Mira in a way she wasn't expecting, unease blooming in her stomach and some sort of lump catching in her throat at the raw emotion of it. Why did it almost sound familiar?

It had curled up against the corner, claws scratching bloody at the rough wall like it had already given up. Finally, as that scream battered her soul again, Mira felt she could get a good look at it. Smaller than most of the demons they had fought recently, the shadows surrounding it somehow billowed around it independent of the tinny orange light of the street lamp. Only now she was closer it looked less like shadow and more like dark clothing. Once her mind had figured that out, it started putting the rest of the shapes together - hands all too human save for the patterns and the claws, shoulders hunched and shaking with the effort it was taking to scream, less rage in that voice now than despair. The sound tore at the honmoon around her, making her glaive tremble strangely under her fingers, and for a moment it almost looked like the air around the demon shimmered, like in a heat wave.

The head on those shoulders darted sideways as the scream devolved into pained sobs that sporadically lengthened into groans and snarls, the glint of an eye sharp and manic from underneath a lock of hair. Hair that, now that Mira thought about it, looked incredibly familiar.

"Holy shit," she heard Zoey breathe from beside her, as her brain caught up with her eyes with all the impending doom of a high speed train. "Holy shit, it's Romance."

Chapter Text

None of them moved. Zoe didn't know if she could. The last time she had seen Romance properly he'd been all supreme confidence and dark sensuality, the memory hazy but real enough for that hideous mix of desire and fear to roil in her gut. This Romance, half sobbing and clawing at the wall? She wouldn't have recognised him if it wasn't for the hair. Even if it was greasy and droopy.

"Rumi?" Zoe asked. "Rumi, what do we do?"

"Kill him." Mira said immediately from beside her. Zoe and Rumi looked over, keeping an eye on Romance, who seemed to have curled up on himself. Mira's hard look wavered. "Right? We kill him right?"

"I…don't know, Mira." Rumi called out softly from atop the wall. Romance whimpered in the pause. "I'm not sure I feel comfortable with that."

"He's a demon." Mira argued.

"He's in pain." Zoe countered. And that was the point, really, wasn't it? Because this wasn't some crazed, slavering demon about to eat souls. She knew it shouldn't matter what his form was, but it did. He was now raking his sharp claws into his hair and down his cheeks, a grimace of pain so twisted on his face she could see all his teeth.

"Isn't that a good thing?"

"Do you feel like it's a good thing right now, Mira!?" Zoe snapped. "Sorry." she apologised immediately, her nerves fraying until her fingers started tingling. "I just don't know what to do."

"Neither do I, Zoe." Rumi mediated. "Killing him is technically the right thing to do - who knows how many people he's killed."

Romance howled, a sound that started small and tortured and ended in him throwing his head back to the sky, veins stark and violent in his neck with the force of it. The three of them let it happen, waited almost motionless until it trailed off into something that made Zoe think of those awful dogs at the pound who never got adopted. That probably wasn't a helpful thought, she told herself. He jerked as Rumi moved, something haunted and crazed in his eyes as he watched her leap deftly to the the top of the generator and then down to the ground the other side of Mira. "I'm going to try and go near him." she said.

"To do what?" Mira asked.

"I don't know," Rumi said, sounding exasperated. "But I know it doesn't feel right just killing him."

Zoe could see that Mira wanted to argue, but could also see how those big dark eyes of hers kept looking over to where Romance was shivering in his thin black robes. She didn't know what to say.

Rumi started moving slowly, reaching out to lean her sword against the wall nearest her. She stepped away from it and started to hum, low and soothing. Zoe thought at first it was Golden, but knew immediately that wasn't right - it was too mellow, the notes too close together. Romance's shoulders tightened, but he stopped shaking. In-between her humming Rumi began speaking to him, saying his name, telling him she was going to come closer, not to try anything. Zoe could practically hear Mira's fingers grinding on the hilt of her glaive she was gripping it so hard. She, in comparison, had so loose a hold on her knives that one little move would send them flying towards him. She took him in, how his head had darted so that one flashing yellow eye was tracking Rumi now, the fingers less clawed on the wall, breathing hard.

She suddenly realized that Rumi had stopped singing and talking entirely, a low curse coming from Mira beside her.

"Um."

When she looked over, there was Rumi, sword in hand. Sword in hand and looking down at said sword like it had just bitten her. She looked up at them, casting wary looks at the demon not far from her. "You saw me put that back on the wall, right?"

"Absolutely."

"You didn't summon it?" Zoe asked in a whisper. Rumi shook her head.

"Okay." she said slowly, leaning over and putting it next to the wall again. Romance's eyes were glued to it. She started moving forward again and this time Zoe saw it - one moment the sword was leaning against the wall, the next it was in Rumi's hand as she tried to step away. They all stared at it this time.

"You sure you didn't summon it?"

"You know she didn't, Zoe."

"It's never done it before." Rumi said finally, something very quiet and pensive in her voice. One look at her face and Zoe figured she was immediately thinking the same thing. This was the first time they'd gone against one of the Saja Boys since Namsan and the sword, well, the sword….

"Try getting close with it in your hand." she suggested.

"I don't want to hurt him."

"Honestly, it would make me feel better anyway." Mira piped up. Rumi shot her a glare and turned the blade so the hilt was facing forward, blade towards her back. It was a visual gesture only, Zoe knew damn well Rumi was just as deadly with it starting from this position. Romance was still just watching her, but something in his poise suggested he was ready to run. Zoe nervously shook her blades again.

"Romance," Rumi tried again. "Romance, I don't want to hurt you, not unless you make me. You're in pain, right? Let me see if I can…"

She never got to finish the sentence. He lunged at her, face contorted in a grimace, sharp talons extended out in front of him. Not even the souped-up demons they'd killed lately had moved that fast. It all happened too quickly for Zoe - one moment he was motionless and the next he was so close to Rumi Zoe could already see in her head the blood that would pour from Rumi's wounds, only then Rumi was shouting - desperate but clear. 'Stop', she heard Rumi say, something thrumming and deeper in her voice than there should be, like that awful moment backstage at the Awards. The 'Stop' reverberated through her, a bloom of pink unfurling in her mind until it shifted to white and hooked into the part of her that warmed every time they sang, gentle but strange. She blinked.

Romance's teeth were gnashing against the sword Rumi had thrown up to protect herself. Only it wasn't a sword. Carved metal in familiar patterns swirled round the crystal core of a staff, a shining thread holding what looked like small balls of light at one end. The soft white light of it illuminated the shock on Rumi's face.

"The fuck is that!?" Mira asked. Rumi slowly turned to her and it was obvious without her saying anything that she had no idea. Only it didn't matter, because Romance, thwarted, backed up and was poised to lunge again, Rumi's surprise making her sluggish. Mira wasn't so affected, a blur at Zoe's side. "Get the fuck away from her!"

Zoe zipped outwards, springing off the flat surface of the concrete to land at the top of the wall. She had a good view when Mira swung her glaive down only to find it shattering into stars inches from Romance's face, coalescing again on her hands and feet. She stumbled, her weight slamming into Romance and knocking him off his trajectory before they both rolled up. She stared down at her hands and shook them, violently, but the light, embroidered in the honmoon swirls, stuck stubbornly to her like fingerless gloves. "The fuck!?"

It was chaos for a while after that - neither Rumi nor Mira knew what to do with these new weapons and it was all too much of a scrum for Zoe to throw anything without risking hitting one of her girls. She found herself paralysed in a way she hadn't since basic training - too many options and not enough focus to choose between them all. 'Do not lose faith in your training,' Celine had said. 'Know it will serve you and trust your gut.'

She burst through the spinning chaos of options and her gut apparently chose screaming Romance's name, which did nothing but make him jerk slightly before snarling in Mira's face. She didn't know why it had felt right to do so, only that she'd caught the look Jinu had on his face when he saved Rumi and part of her didn't want to believe that it wasn't possible for others. It couldn't have just been Jinu, right? There was hope for all of them, for everyone, right?

She doubted herself when he suddenly launched upwards at her, face nothing but contortion and teeth, eyes crazed. That training kicked in and she simply stepped off the wall in time to push off him, sending him crashing back to the floor. She did a little nervous flip before she landed again, only to see Mira roar in frustration, finally giving up on trying to get her glaive back and opting to just fully punch him in the face. He bounced off the wall and used his momentum to take Mira by surprise, running her down to the ground. Then all Zoe could see, like the world had gone into slow motion, was his arms raising, claws bared, muscles in his back rippling - Rumi, face dropping in horror, discarding her now-staff and preparing to just throw herself at them - Mira's arms moving to defend herself but it wouldn't be in time. It wasn't fair, all of a sudden, that they had to do this again. It wasn't fair that demons weren't just bad guys now and and these ones in particular had been friends with Jinu only had they even been friends or was he using them but if he was then what were their weapons doing and…

"Stop!" she heard herself yelling, hating how it felt to let the blades go - deadly and unerringly accurate at this range - wished, just desperately wished that she wasn't going to have to hear the dull thud of them sinking into Romance's back before he split into smoke. If he even did now the honmoon was sealed.

Only instead, behind her scrunched eyes, she only heard Romance yelp in surprise, something hitting the ground and rolling. Rumi's voice cut off mid-word and Zoe opened her eyes again in the sudden silence.

Romance was the one who had hit the ground, a ripple in the air she knew was the honmoon rolling off him and down the alleyway. Her blades had not, in fact, hit their mark but seemed to have tangled around him. Tangled around him, that is, because there was clearly some kind of net attached to them which was now wrapped around his body. Absurdly, her mind immediately likened him to a captured mermaid from a fairytale - especially with the flowing hair and the utter outrage on his face that made his mouth hang open like a fish.

"What. The. Fuck." Mira finally said again, having flipped back up to her feet. Rumi just stared and looked dumbly at Romance, at Mira, at Zoe. At her sword that was no longer a sword. Everything was suddenly very quiet. Zoe's brain was doing that thing where it was thinking of so many things at once it became white noise and therefore strangely soothing in a 'I'm about to have a breakdown' kind of way.

"Now what?" Rumi asked. Zoe realized with horror that she was looking up at her.

"Ummmmm," she replied, the panic beginning to creep into the edges of the white noise. "I don't know."

"He's going to go ape-shit again," Mira warned, alternating between tugging irritably at her new shiny gloves and stamping what Zoe could now see were boots on her feet. "I can see it in his eyes."

"He seemed to like your singing, Rumi. That seemed to calm him a bit." Zoe suggested lamely.

"Wasn't he just waiting to surprise me?"

"Well give me a few minutes and I'll try and think of something else."

"No, no," Rumi soothed, taking a breath. "I'll give it a try."

She started humming again, that same tune from before. There was something intimate in the closeness of the harmony, the cycle of notes that would have been repetitive only in Rumi's hum was the certainty that each phrase meant something different. Zoe wished she could remember where she'd heard it before.

Romance's chest was heaving , breath coming out of bared teeth. Even from up on the wall she could see his eyes tight with pain, shudders racking through him. Every now and again his eyes would close with it. She recognised that wince.

"I think it's his head," she murmured as she slowly dropped down to stand next to Mira. "I think there's something wrong with his head."

"Well we knew that." Mira grumbled as Rumi moved, with her customary grace, towards him. Romance squirmed a little, but his eyes were darting around at all of them. And the staff.

If she really thought about it, Zoe would be able to say that she felt something before Rumi reached out her hand and the staff was suddenly in it. Something like a gentle intake of breath, only it wasn't sound. Like the first flutter of your heart when someone you've wanted to be close to forever first lands a kiss on your neck. They'd pulled their weapons from the honmoon a thousand times before. It had never quite felt like that.

Rumi's voice got stronger as she got closer and, both suddenly and inevitably, she sang a phrase that hung in the air, floating up only to descend. It sounded like what Zoe imagined flying would feel like. With a gentleness that her black,studded outfit made look very weird, Rumi lifted the staff to touch it softly to Romance's chest. He cocked his head at her, looking down at the staff and back up at Rumi's face. This was good, Zoe thought. He reached his hands, kept close to his body by the net, to the base of staff, curling long fingers (still beautiful even with the claws) round where it touched him. This was potentially good, Zoe thought again, optimistically. The pained, curious grimace turned into a confident smirk. Oh shit, Zoe thought, unsurprised.

Only Rumi wasn't born yesterday and Zoe saw Romance's body jerk at the same time as he roared, the sound just as horrifying as it had been when she'd first heard it. This time, though, it was countered by Rumi's voice, Full-Powered-Rumi starting an ascending phrase on way too high a note whilst giving Zoe every confidence she was going to absolutely nail it. Zoe shivered, feeling something (some things?) running over her skin and blinking until she realized it was tiny threads of light, like ley-lines shimmering all around them, something wrong and juddering as they got closer to Romance. The honmoon. She could see the honmoon, could see it spreading from Rumi's voice. Only this wasn't the vague sketch she was accustomed to seeing - this honmoon had threads thousands of times more numerous. The honmoon she was used to always reminded her of a musical staff, multiplied over and over. This was more like someone had cooked ten thousand packs of the thinnest noodles in the world and was waving them about in the air. It occurred to her that she needed to work on her metaphors.

She could see every thread as it fluttered, or tried to, at the thrumming beat of Rumi's voice. Tried to, because as it got closer to Romance it somehow became both such a deep red it was barely visible and that acrid, neon blue that hurts to look at. Both of those. At the same time. And it was knotted. Knotted like a tangle of thread, or the drawing of an over-active child with too much energy given crayons. It buzzed, somehow, around his head and she could see it passing through him. She watched as it pulsed, static like a swarm of bees filling the air until that sound was chased by Romance's agonized shout of pain. It was the honmoon hurting him. Not with its gold/blue/white light, not with the power of song and love and all that hero-stuff, but because it was tangled and wrong and too bright and too dark and too quiet and too loud. It looked like every tortured night she'd ever had, desperately trying to sleep while her head was fizzing tiny knives into every insecurity she'd ever nursed.

She realized with some horror that she was crying.

Romance's foot broke out of the net as he writhed within it. The Hunter in her snapped back and she instinctively reached for the blades she no longer had.

"A little help, guys!?" Rumi yelled. The honmoon started collapsing on itself around Romance's head the second she stopped singing. Her eyes were panicked as she started up again, her face urging them to join their voices to hers to strengthen it.

"I don't know this song, Rumi!" Zoe called back, rushing towards her and bodily throwing herself onto Romance' thrashing legs. They were kicking so hard she felt like she was on a bucking bronco so she wrapped her own legs around his, hooking them around his ankles and gripping her strong fingers round his thighs ('don't think about it', she told the part of her brain that immediately started freaking out - 'we can think about it later.')

Rumi was still looking at her expectantly, though, so she focussed on Rumi's lips and opened her own mouth, letting a voice come out even if was wrong. She felt Romance's claws around one of her wrists, flinching as it broke skin but then Mira was there, straddling Romance's chest and leaning over him to pin his arms to the ground with her knees. She tried to cast her mind back to when they'd all been on the roof, when they'd joined their voices, their souls together to the honmoon. Rumi knew the melody. Rumi knew the lyrics. She trusted Rumi.

I've been wanting to change, now I know we can change…

She almost felt them collide in the honmoon as her voice snapped into place next to Rumi's and she took a breath, giving every part of herself she could over to her. The words, the melody came to her through her heart and out of her mouth and a feeling like yearning, like nothing she'd ever felt, suffused every part of her body. She breathed again, allowing her brain to process the stimuli battering it from every sense.

All the secrets that keep me in chains and…

From the moment she had started singing the same light illuminated the honmoon as Rumi's. Only not quite the same, like she was the moon reflecting Rumi's sunlight. The two of them sang until Romance calmed, until she was caught off guard by Mira's arm reaching, balletic, behind her. She looked up to see Rumi's eyes widening even bigger whilst looking at where Romance's head should be. It looked like Mira was pulling something. That's because, Zoe's subconscious realized, she was. As Zoe and Rumi watched, they could see Mira's shoulders shifting, arms strong but relaxed like she was when she danced. Zoe caught sight of two elegant fingers smoothing down one of the threads of the honmoon. And it moved with her. Next she saw Mira's other hand pull almost downwards and this time those fingers were gently teasing two tangled strands apart.

She was untangling him. Mira was fully weaving the honmoon back to how it should be as Rumi and Zoe sang. Zoe was so immediately impressed she felt herself fall in love with Mira all over again (again). Even like this, with Zoe unable to see her properly, she was mesmerized with how Mira moved - the ripple of her shoulders under the jacket, the smoothness of her arms and wrists as she gently pulled strands of the honmoon away. A sticky knot was teased until it gave up and Zoe was so distracted by Mira's fingers and the way they rippled it took Rumi kicking her to make her realize she'd basically stopped singing. It was also at that moment, as Zoe looked up to grumble, that she realized that Rumi was crying.

Why does it feel right…

Zoe watched Rumi cry for a moment, struck in a mixture of awe and horror at how beautiful she was. She knew, all of a sudden, where she'd heard this song before. She'd heard it in those horrible, lonely nights where either she or Mira would wake to find Rumi gone, wake the other and go look for her. Rumi would always be on the balcony, looking out at the city. And sometimes she'd be humming this. Something swelled in Zoe at that moment and she needed to take a breath out of phrase.

No one sees me the way you do…

Zoe didn't know how she knew, but there was now no question in her mind that the resurge of longing she felt in her chest wasn't her own. Rumi slipped into a harmony on the chorus this time round and Zoe also knew, as Rumi looked down at her in surprise that Zoe wasn't the one she was expecting to hear beside her. That shock was followed by a short moment of such grief that Zoe felt her own chest tighten, only then Rumi was smiling at her through her tears and even though Zoe knew for a fact that Rumi had just hidden herself from them again, that smile was so genuine and tentative and loving that she had to reach out to her, letting Rumi tangle their hands together. She just loved her so much, Zoe thought as Rumi's fingers tightened hard enough to bruise. So much. That thought was all her own.

She loved Rumi so much that it took her a moment to realize that Romance wasn't fighting at all anymore. His muscles under her hands, her thighs, were lax. She and Rumi shared a look and Rumi slowly took the staff away from his chest. Zoe leant forward, crawling a little up Romance's body until she could poke her head over Mira's shoulder. Mira's bare neck was covered in a sheen of sweat. If Zoe hadn't been singing at the time, her mouth would have dropped open at what she'd been missing.

The honmoon, so jagged and hideous around Romance's head, was really being teased out. There were little puffs of what looked like smoke sometimes when Mira touched a really awful bit, but already the two extremes of colour and light and sound in it were lessening. It was even more beautiful watching Mira work when she could really see it and she carefully rested her chin on Mira's shoulder, watching for any sign the contact wasn't welcome. Mira immediately relaxed slightly into it and Rumi stepped forward that extra few inches to press her legs against Mira's other side. They held each other in this new honmoon and at the moment they all touched Zoe felt something in her loosen, her shoulders dropping from their anxious perch up by her ears.

I don't trust it, but I want to…

Romance was looking at nothing but Mira's face. His crazed energy was gone, replaced by something that looked like a tranquil worship. Zoe could still see the tightening of his eyes sometimes but it was clear that the pain was lessening. The way he looked at Mira made something soften in Zoe - whatever emotion he was feeling made him look suddenly beautiful again. Not beautiful like he had been at Namsan, all hard edges and forbidden desires, but soft and hedonistic, like he'd brush his lips over your temple and run gentle fingers down your spine. She was probably getting distracted. Or it was this song, she thought, something sensual lurking expectantly beneath the hope in the melody.

Mira shifted underneath her and Zoe accommodated for it naturally, slipping her hands around Romance's now relaxed wrists as Mira moved gently off his chest and around him. Zoe gently moved those hands together and held them against his stomach as she shimmied a little further up his body. This was a necessary shimmy, otherwise she'd have been fully straddling his hips. Definitely distracted, she thought.

Mira meanwhile had turned so she was kneeling by his head, facing her. Her expression was determined, focussed entirely on the remaining tangles around Romance's head. He hadn't taken his eyes off her, now looking up at her above him like she was some kind of goddess. Zoe could relate, honestly.

Rumi seemed to know what Mira needed immediately, kneeling next to them and reaching over, gently cradling his scalp in her hands. His mouth was so close to the vulnerable part of her wrists, Zoe suddenly thought, anxiety blooming in her stomach. Only Romance barely seemed to notice Rumi lifting his head to allow Mira to shuffle her knees under it, laying him gently back down so he rested on Mira's thighs. His mouth was slightly open, his breath still audible as little gasps and puffs of air. 'I must either be in shock or recovering from shock', Zoe thought to herself as images of where those sounds might also be appropriate (or inappropriate as the case may be) flooded her brain for a moment. She shook her head and concentrated on singing.

Let the past be the past…

She and Rumi watched Mira free him entirely, Rumi having put her hand on Zoe's hands which were holding Romance's hands. Connected this way Zoe could almost feel him, not part of their song but so close she could taste it.

Their song was no longer a thing of strident, immediate power but more unending - quiet but strong. Zoe could see it fuelling Mira as fewer and fewer tangles stood between her and Romance. Could now see the pulsing light from her and Rumi pushing at the the parts of the honmoon still angry and jagged, flooding it with their tender light just as Mira pulled from the other side.

We could be…

Then, all of a sudden, it was done. Mira pulled away the final tangle and the last barrier fell - it felt like a vacuum had just appeared and Rumi and Zoe's voices swept through it in a rush, banishing not only the vestiges of wrongness but then through Romance like a wave along a shore - leaving the both of them breathless and silent.

Everything now was suddenly very silent. Very silent and very still, the only movement the slow stroking of Mira's clearly tired hands through Romance's hair. Zoe could feel his breath under her, now slow and strong, fingers ever so slightly curled around hers. His eyes were closed, lips parted with an easy breath. Every line of pain and tension on his face was gone. There was a shimmer to his patterns more pearlescent than oily. His skin was warm.

Zoe sat back properly on her haunches with a huff of breath and felt Rumi's weight fall against her in turn. They looked at each other, at Mira. At the staff, lying crooked on Romance's shoulder where Rumi had dropped it. At the weave of the net glittering around his body. At the now dull glow of the gloves on Mira's hands.

The night had just got a lot more complicated.

Chapter Text

Zoey felt Rumi consciously slowing her breathing as she leant against Zoey's side. Now that things were beginning to calm down, she had so many questions. So many. There was only one thing she really wanted to say at this moment, however.

"Hey, Rumi?"

"Yeah?"

"That song was really beautiful."

She felt Rumi look up at her and turned towards her, noting the suddenly very wary look on Rumi's face.

"Oh. Zoey, I…"

"It was really beautiful, Rumi." she said again and leant forward to kiss her forehead. "I just wanted to say that."

She didn't like the relief that flooded Rumi's face as she realized that Zoey wasn't going to ask. It reminded her too much of the look Rumi would give them when they finally gave up on convincing her to go to the bathhouse. Still, her uncle had taught her that everyone grieves in their own way and she was going to let Rumi do what she needed to do. For a while, at least.

"Thank you." Rumi murmured softly. "For trusting me. You sang it so beautifully as well. We really have to get you on the melodic lines more often."

Zoey giggled a little, the familiar argument very relieving.

"So," she started. "How about them weapons, eh?"

"I don't even know where to begin."

"And the honmoon?"

"What about it? The fact that we could see it in so much more detail, the tangle, the colours…"

"..Mira being able to touch it, having such control over it with our voices? Yeah," Zoey agreed, "I should have been more specific with that question."

"…so soft…"

She and Rumi were looking at each other when the whisper interrupted them so Zoey saw Rumi's eyes widen at the same time hers did. They both turned their heads to look at where Romance's head was still lying in Mira's lap. Mira, who was still stroking his hair and clearly hadn't yet realised she'd said that out loud.

They both saw the moment that she did. Watched with increasingly delighted grins on their faces as she froze, looked up to check they weren't looking, blushed furiously when she realized they were and immediately leapt up. Romance's head hit the concrete with a thud and his face screwed up again, a rather pathetic whimper emitting from those pouty lips of his. Mira froze, all gangly panic like when they'd first met her.

"Uh, sorry…I mean, I'm not sorry! Because he's a demon and we don't care if we hurt hi….I mean. Wait. I didn't…"

She huffed out a breath in exasperation and then coughed rather adorably into a delicately curled fist. For all her insistence that she'd moved on from the posh life, she always reverted to genteel manners when embarrassed.

She glared at them both like they were ones who had just been caught fondling the albeit very beautiful hair of one of their sworn enemies. "What do we do now?"

Rumi slumped beside her.

"I feel like we've been asking that question all night."

They were quiet for a moment and Zoey felt her mind kick into gear. She shifted to get comfy and the floor she was sitting on grunted slightly. Oh yeah.

Mira was smirking a little as she squeaked and shimmied to one side of the prostrate demon between them. She did notice, however, that neither Rumi nor she stopped touching him. It was the kind of thing she always noticed when cogs were whirring in the back of her head. She'd long stopped getting self-conscious about how long it took to align them, but never was able to get over how Mira and Rumi just waited for her. Trusted that whatever came out would be worth the wait.

"Ok." she said finally. "I feel that we have three options."

"Only three?" Mira asked from in front of her, still standing.

"Ok maybe four."

"Hit us with it, Zoey." Rumi said, quiet and strong beside her. Zoey felt the familiar tickle of nerves she always felt when people were really listening to her. It was just as familiar a habit now to brush it away when she was with Mira and Rumi.

"Ok. Option number one: we kill him."

The silence was palpable. "Option number two: we leave him here."

Rumi tilted her head. Mira scowled. "Option number three: we find a secret location under the city and lock him up in there until we decide what to do with him."

Mira sighed deeply, cocking one hip and putting her face in her hand.

"And option number four?" Rumi asked, sounding slightly desperate.

"Option number four: we take him home and keep him there."

"How is that an option?!" Mira asked. Zoey put her hands up.

"Hey, I'm just laying out the potentials, not saying if they're good or not. However," she added, taking a deep breath. The nerves came back full force.

"Zoey?" Rumi prompted, a too-warm hand on hers. Zoey looked over at her and took another breath.

"I'm not happy with option number one." she admitted in a rush. "I'm sorry if you guys want to do that and I don't want to be a bother but I feel really uncomfortable and if you guys disagree then I totally understand and…"

"Zoey." Rumi said again, stronger. She squeezed Zoey's hand and leant up to press a quick, firm kiss on her cheek. "It's ok. I'm glad you said it. I think I kind of agree."

"I don't." Mira said flatly. Zoey looked over to see her crossing her arms. "But I do know that if we all have a free veto, I'm vetoing number two. He's still a demon. He will hurt people if we just leave him. I won't do that."

"Number three for me for the same reason," Rumi said, nodding. "I don't want to risk holing him up somewhere only for him to break out and we're back to the beginning."

The silence was somehow even more palpable than before.

"So," Zoey started. "That rather suggests we go for option number four…."

"I'm not keeping a demon in my damn house."

"You're fine with half a demon." Rumi countered, very quietly. Zoey put both her hands on Rumi's and squeezed.

"That's different," Mira soothed immediately, coming forward to kneel by Romance's head. "You're only half."

"And you're you," Zoey added quickly, seeing a shadow passing behind Rumi's eyes like she was going to argue. "We know you. And you've never actively tried to end the world. That counts for something."

Rumi couldn't quite stop herself smiling at that, inclining her head in acknowledgement.

"We could try the Loft above the penthouse - that has heavy duty doors on the vaults." she suggested.

"Can't he just, you know…poof?" Mira asked.

"Hmmm - I mean the whole penthouse is coated in the honmoon right? That thing we did with Celine when we first moved in?"

"But the Loft is within the honmoon, Zoey - he'll already be inside so he could attack us at any time." Rumi reminded her. "Although it might hinder his ability to poof if he's surrounded by it."

"What about the Snug?" Mira asked. "The training room is fully reinforced the whole way round, it's directly under the penthouse so we're not far from home but it's outside of the honmoon so if he tries anything we're still safe. Doesn't stop him poofing away but we could keep watch on him until we figure out what to do."

The Snug was the apartment under the penthouse. They had purchased it originally to make sure there was a whole level between them and everyone else - but soon they'd realised that there was enough room to set up a proper training room there, looking out over the city. Perhaps even more importantly, however, it was where they each had their own space beyond their own rooms. Mira kept her entire soft toy collection down there, Zoey had set up an ideas room that could genuinely make anyone's head hurt if they spent more than five minutes in there. Rumi hadn't been in her room for a while.

It wasn't a bad idea. Well, actually it was a very bad idea, but it seemed to be the least bad of the bunch. Just as Zoey was really trying to imagine what it would be like, she felt a familiar tingle against her thigh and she watched them all jump as their weapons (or whatever they were now) faded into the honmoon, having decided apparently they were unneeded. It wasn't at all the first time they had done this - usually the girls themselves banished them themselves at the end of the fight, but it had a strange significance in the moment.

"Ok then." Rumi said finally, standing. "Apparently we're decided."

Zoey looked up at both Mira and Rumi - they looked about as resentful and weirded out as she felt. It was strangely reassuring.

"This feels so bizarre." Zoey grumbled, pushing off Romance's stomach spitefully to help herself stand. He grunted at the pressure and it made her feel a little better.

"So, so bizarre." Mira agreed. She hesitated. "Wait, how are we going to get him there?"

"I guess we carry him." Rumi said after a moment. Mira sighed and rolled up her sleeves, bending to pick him up. Rumi stopped her with a hand on her shoulder and a distinctly cheeky grin on her face. "I'll do it."

"Aren't I the one who normally…carries….the stuff….?"

Mira trailed off and Zoey felt her mouth drop open as Rumi reached down and hooked a hand under Romance's shoulder-blades, scooping him up into her arms like he weighed nothing. Her thin jacket wasn't quite enough to stop Zoey's eyes going straight to her lean muscled arms flexing as she settled Romance comfortably, princess-style, in her arms. Part of that involved her rolling her shoulders, stretching her neck side to side to make a long, strong line. Zoey's eyes helplessly followed that line down to her shoulder and skipped over to Rumi's collar bone that lurked behind the now open collar of her shirt. Suddenly it was all she could look at.

Rumi looked up and saw them staring. Her smile instantly faded.

"Oh, I'm sorry I just thought…"

"Nononononono," Zoey babbled, pushing on Romance's body to make Rumi curl him back into her chest where she'd started putting him back down. Mira was right beside her but Rumi's eyes were panicked. An anxious glimmer (Zoey had started categorising them, obviously) shivered over the patterns framing her beautiful face. She was backtracking now.

"It's just that I'm a bit stronger than I look now and I just thought…."

"Yeah, we noticed." Mira interrupted her.

"I'm so sorry, I just thought it would be funny because...."

"Insanely hot."

"….what?" Rumi asked, looking over dumbstruck at Zoey. Zoey just nodded dumbly at her, trying to get some moisture back in her throat.

"You. Insanely hot. Just. Hot."

"You just picked him up like he was a paper doll." Mira added, sounding awestruck and a little breathless. "Just…whoop, up he went."

"Insanely. Hot."

Rumi blushed at the same time as an embarrassed smile spread over her face. She chuckled a little.

"Oh. Well I guess that's ok then."

"Are you.." Zoey had to pause to clear her throat, suddenly hyper aware of where her and Rumi's fingers were touching, surrounded by the silk on Romance's thin clothes. "Are you going to just carry him or…"

Still blushing and a little awkwardly, Rumi smirked at her and then she pushed off, disappearing upwards until all Mira and Zoey could see was a silhouette landing perfectly on the roof of the building next to them. The spread of Rumi's legs to keep herself balanced whilst carrying a fully grown demon-man was enough to flood Zoey's previously dry mouth and she found herself gripping Mira's arm as her knees went weak.

"Insanely hot." Mira said. Zoey tried to catch her breath.

"Insanely hot."

It should have been a more eventful journey back to the penthouse really, when Zoey thought about it. Three women, one carrying a man-sized demon, parkouring off roofs until they crouched waiting for a car to go into the underground parking under their building to sneak through? Only, it wasn't. Rumi was carrying Romance like he weighed nothing and the most eventful part of the whole thing up until they actually got him upstairs was when Zoey was so distracted by the determined set of Rumi's jaw and tightening of those arm muscles that she nearly fell of a roof sign. Rumi noticed, smiled bashfully and mercifully didn't tell Mira.

Even if they'd wanted to try the Loft, Romance made the choice for them. They'd made their way up to the penthouse level and were getting him to the door when he started moaning, pressing his face against Rumi's chest in a way that made her eyes go wide and Mira to scowl and pull at his hair. When Rumi tried to move closer he all but curled up around her - still unconscious but clearly very uncomfortable. Zoey sent a quick pulse of her voice towards the entrance and saw a brief flash of bright strands of honmoon thrumming where they were closest to him. Surrounding their home with a woven net of honmoon was a good idea - but it wasn't going to work for this. The Snug it was, then.

She went in first - punching in the code to the door and throwing the lights on. They hadn't actually spent much time in the Snug since Namsan - usually they came down here when they needed alone time but they'd all been too busy wanting to be with one another recently. It was on two floors and the training room was down a short set of stairs off the main hallway. So down they went.

The training room took up the whole of the 'point' of the tower, like their grand living room a few floors up. The inside wall held some training rooms, the showers and a small open plan kitchen in one corner. The training area itself was set on a small step up and covered in training mats made to look like reed matting. Against the wall of dark, city-punctuated sky the full-length windows provided, the bright overhead lights felt very harsh. Was it the fact that he was a demon that made Zoey long for dim lights and clandestine whispers? Or was it the fact that, in his brief time in the spotlight, Romance had done a commercial for perfume that involved an intimate room lit only by an open fire and the promise of what Romance would do to a girl wearing that perfume if she gave him half a chance? Both, she thought, as Rumi accidentally smacked Romance's head against a banister, making Mira cackle, both probably.

There was some hot debate on exactly what to do with him once Rumi had laid him out on the mats in the middle of the room. Mira wanted to practically hog-tie him, Rumi thought this was a bit excessive even for a demon and Zoey was going to suggest putting him in one of the side rooms when they suddenly all remembered that the side rooms were full of training weapons. And non-training weapons. So then there was a whole rush to get the weapons upstairs, each of them watching the still-prostrate Romance warily whenever they were dashing past. To Zoey's delight Mira seemed to take Rumi's new strength as a personal challenge and she'd barely made two trips before the two of announced they were done, both breathless and a little sweat-sheened. Zoey liked the look.

That still left Romance lying on their training room floor, however. Still unconscious. Which, honestly, Zoey was kind of glad about - he was far more attractive when he wasn't trying to kill them. Damn but those lips were so pouty and soft and…Rumi was asking her how thick the security door was. More than thick enough, they thought, if keeping him in was going to require physical means.

They had the rest of the 'debate' on what to do on the upper level of the Snug, having locked said security door at the bottom of the stairs. Mira immediately went to grab all their fruit from the penthouse fridge and spent most of the conversation aggressively chopping it into a pile of pieces. Rumi and Zoe had grabbed the spare pyjamas (of which there were many) and the three of them changed out of their outfits as they talked about it - piling them all up in the special demon-slaying washing basket (Zoe had put some little horns on it made out of cardboard - Su-Yeon (their cleaner) had no idea what it meant but thought it was cute).

It finally came down to this: they needed to see how he was when he woke up. The training room (affectionately known as the Pit, which seemed rather fitting now) had showers and other facilities (they'd all started blushing during that part of the conversation and Mira's chopping had got significantly louder). They could get him food if he needed it though they all drew the line if he needed souls to eat, the room itself had the most incredible views of Seoul out of the floor-to-ceiling windows and if he needed things to do, they could bring them to him. For however long he was staying. Which was a point of hot contention and had led to said conclusion that they needed to speak to him.

"It's not like he's a damn dog!" Mira said loudly as Rumi clocked her phone and headed to the main door (they'd also ordered fries and sausage noodles - a balanced diet was key when demon slaying).

"Well we could always put a collar on him - he probably wouldn't mind." Zoey responded mildly, grinning at the offended glare she received in return. "Don't say you wouldn't want to."

"I wouldn't want to."

"You like it on me."

"….that's different."

"And he'd probably be better behaved."

"You're only badly behaved because you can't sit still."

Zoey slid in behind her as Mira dumped the fruit pieces in a huge bowl and ran her fingers over the thin line of exposed skin between Mira's top and pants.

"You like it when I wriggle."

"…I do."

"Hey hey, no screwing before dinner." Rumi announced as she came back in, paper food bag in tow. They all looked at each other. "Downstairs then?"

"Ugh."

"He's almost certainly still unconscious, Mira." Zoey cajoled as she pulled her after Rumi down the hall. "Plus, do you want to just leave him there with no supervision?"

"…no."

"Well then."

They shimmied their way down the stairs back into the Pit. Zoey had been right, he was still unconscious. They dumped their foodie goodies next to the window and dragged a few seating mats over. Then it was eating time.

Juggling being a warrior and an Idol was hard when it came to food, but it had been one of the first things they'd bonded over. It had also given them strange tastes. Rumi made sure she had a piece of strawberry with every slice of sausage, Mira had a tendency to dip her pears in the ketchup for the fries and Zoey tended to mix her melon pieces in with the sausage noodles (she'd taken to bringing her own bowl for that at Mira and Rumi's insistence). For the first time since they'd got home, there was quiet. Well, besides the slightly terrifying sounds of them eating. They'd allowed Bobby into their pre-concert carbfest once and only once - he'd excused himself after less than five minutes, looking slightly green. Suited them.

Rumi had just gestured for Zoey to throw one of the aloe water bottles over to her when she suddenly jumped in surprise, face shifting into one of embarrassed horror. Unfortunately Zoey had already started throwing the bottle, which proceeded to bounce off Rumi's head and into the ketchup, which promptly splurged all over Mira, who squealed in a way she would kill anyone for hearing. Only then she noticed what Rumi had noticed and froze in similar horror. Given where they were looking, Zoe's face had already started grimacing before she turned to see what had caught their attention.

On the bright side, Romance's now exceedingly conscious face was at least as horrified as theirs, if not more so.

None of them said anything. For what felt like an excruciatingly long time. A piece of sausage fell conspicuously out of Zoey's raised chopsticks.

"…and they call us beasts." Romance finally said, his eyes still wide and voice just as low and breathy as she remembered. She watched his surprise fade into arrogance, a smirk twisting those beautiful lips in way that was suddenly wholly artificial. "What would your devoted fans think if they saw you this way?" he drawled.

Mira made a slightly strangled sound. Gracious leader that she was, Rumi recovered first.

"Probably the same things they thought when they watched you fail to drink hot sauce you dweeb."

He took a breath like he was about to argue. Thought about it. Inclined his head instead.

"Touché."

He shifted from holding himself up with one arm to sitting cross-legged, looking around. "Where am I?"

"We'll ask the questions here." Mira said. It would have been very intimidating if there wasn't ketchup dripping off her panda pyjamas (they really shouldn't have changed into those, what were they thinking?!). From Romance's clear attempt not to smile, he thought the same. Still, Zoey saw a sliver of nervousness in him as he shifted again, gave them a disarming smile.

"Very well. What would you like to know?"

"Are you ok now?" Zoey blurted out. The smile faded.

"Am I…what?"

"Are you ok now? You were hurting before. Your head?"

He frowned, lifting delicate fingers to his temples. Zoey was absolutely not looking at the way they gently brushed his fringe out of the way.

"Oh. I - yes, I think so. I…"

He frowned again, cocking his head to one side, then the other.

"You don't hear him." Rumi said softly. He looked at her sharply.

"What makes you say that?"

She smiled and there was something horribly sad about it.

"I've seen that look before. The honmoon is stronger now and he's…I don't really know what, to be honest. Dead? Defeated? Banished? But he's not here. And he can't reach you."

He looked at them all in turn, subtle changes in his face like he was trying to figure out which expression to put on. He ended up just slumping his shoulders.

"…is there any of that food spare? Honestly I'm trying to work out how to manipulate you but all I can is hear my own stomach rumbling."

"You eat? Like, normal food?" Zoey asked. The smile he sent her way was condescending and definitely not attractive.

"We do. May I?"

"Alright." Rumi agreed.

"What!?"

"He's no use to us passed out from lack of food, Mira."

Zoey pretended not to notice Romance sticking his tongue out at Mira behind Rumi's back. He stood slowly, needing a moment to keep his balance but then gracefully came over and sat between her and Rumi, across the fruit platter from Mira.

"You seem kind of nervous." she observed, offering him some melon noodles.

"Well wouldn't you be?" he asked, politely indicating his thanks but picking up some pear instead.

"What do you mean?"

He halted, having just taken a bite. There was a drop of juice on his lip that he idly wiped away. Then he laughed a little.

"Really? Demons are boogie-men of the world, aren't they?"

"Yes."

"But everyone has to have a boogie-man. Who do you think ours is?"

The three of them were silent for a moment.

"Uh, Gwi-Ma?" Zoey offered, not hopeful.

"A little perhaps, but he at least usually gives some time for pleading and bargains before he starts chopping us into pieces. And here I am," he continued, popping a piece of plum in his mouth. "Eating with you."

"It's just as surreal the other way round, trust me." Mira warned.

"I have no doubts of that. So," he started, turning to Rumi. "Can I ask where I am, now?"

"I said no questions."

"I thought she was the leader."

"Don't call me 'she'."

"Oh? Your lead dancer rules you, does she?"

"Hey, I'm more than just…"

"Ok ok ok!" Zoey interrupted, surprising herself by popping a fry into Romance's open mouth just to shut him up. "Shush the lot of you. Can't you tell from the view?"

He frowned, chewing resentfully on the fry and casting his gaze past Mira's back to the view beyond. She saw when he worked it out. His voice was satisfactorily strangled when it came.

"Holy…am I in the damn keep!?"

"Keep?" Mira asked.

"I think maybe it's a remnant of the earliest Hunters," Rumi suggested in a low voice, "They used to have a proper keep back in the day."

"Like a castle!?" Zoey asked. "Aw man, I want a castle."

"Why am I in the keep?!"

They were quiet again for a moment. Rumi spoke first.

"Because quite honestly we didn't know what to do with you." she said, looking straight at him. "Do you remember anything."

He thought for a moment, a shadow passing over his face.

"I remember running." he said quietly, casting a look Zoey couldn't read at them all. "Running and running. And then this sound, or this feeling - like a tsunami coming from the stadium. I…I don't really remember much after that. Except pain."

"Well isn't that convenient." Mira said flatly. Zoey saw a flash of annoyance in Romance's eyes she believed was genuine.

"Oh yes, very convenient - I'm now at the mercy of the things that go bump in the night for me and my kind and am trapped in their tower with likely no hope of escape."

"The only potential way being that you find a way to make us pity you."

"I won't need much help with that!" he snapped. "May I remind you that for all intents and purposes you killed three out of the five of my brothers and now I'm stuck here with no hope of going home with something out there that wants to split my head open and apparently crawl around in it!"

Zoey watched Rumi flinch and couldn't stand it.

"We only killed two, you bastard and you know that."

"What does it matter? He's still dead and if it weren't for you he wouldn't be. Not to mention that is a truly incredible sentence to say as a form of justification."

"Well if it weren't for you all trying to destroy the world we wouldn't have had to hurt you!"

"Enough." Rumi said, in that quiet, stern voice that got everyone to do her bidding regardless of who they were. "This isn't helping."

Zoey hated how hollow her voice sounded, how that hollowness had spread to her eyes as she looked directly at Romance. "Can you feel the honmoon now?"

Romance took a breath and his eyes cast upwards.

"There's some up there. And I can see it out there. Sort of. There are too many strands, it's too bright."

"That's almost like how we see it." Zoey mused. Romance shrugged.

"Not surprising - we are the actual creatures of the night, sweet thing. You're just visitors."

Zoey absolutely did not blush. If either Rumi or Mira said anything otherwise, they were lying.

"You look like shit, by the way. And stink as much, too." Mira interrupted.

"….I really wish I could disagree with you but honestly if you don't give me a way to wash soon I'm going to throw myself out of the window. Gods how long have I been like this?"

"When do you think it is?" Rumi asked. Romance thought for a moment then laughed and shrugged.

"I have no idea."

"You seem pretty chill about it." she pointed out.

"Well, it's either that or start crying manically and end up rocking in a corner. This whole thing is absurd."

Rumi shook her head with a small disbelieving smile.

"There are showers in the back room."

"Oh thank god. Clothes?"

They hadn't thought of that. Which was made pretty obvious by them all looking at each other, clearly lost. "…I mean I'm not averse to walking around naked, it's really quite warm in here…"

"No!"

Zoey assumed from the volume that they had all shouted that at once. To say that Romance was un-phased would be an understatement. He looked as comfortable as she'd seen him tonight. Bastard.

"We can…get some clothes tomorrow, I guess?" Rumi offered.

"What about in the meantime?" Zoey asked, slightly desperately. "I'm shorter than both of you."

She and Rumi clearly had the same thought at the same moment. Mira was already glaring at them both by the time they looked over.

"No. Absolutely not."

"You are literally the only one who has things that would fit him." Rumi reasoned.

"And," Zoey added, sweetening the pot. "If they're your things you can make sure they're the most cutesy, embarrassing things you own."

Mira's interest was clearly piqued.

"I can make him look as stupid as I want?"

"As stupid as you want." Rumi assured her.

Mira's grin was vaguely terrifying.

"Done. Get proper clean you grimy bastard or I'll put you in a dress."

"Honestly, sweetheart, I'd kind of prefer it. Much more comfortable."

Zoey snorted.

"You'd wear a dress? Really?"

He looked over at her and leaned in just enough she could see how damn long his eyelashes were.

"Look at this face - do you honestly think it would be the first time?"

Zoey's mind was suddenly filled with an imagined version of Romance wearing an off-the-shoulder, clinging satin gown whislt crowding her up against a wall and showing just how little that ballgown covered certain things. She'd be able to feel the heat of him through the silk…the heels would make him so tall…his face was so close…

"Ok, you creep," Mira snapped, getting and striding between him and Zoey so he had to lean back or get kneed in the face. "Pipe it down and get in the shower."

"Yes ma'am." Romance muttered. He pushed himself to his feet, slightly wobbly if Zoey was any judge and looked at the both of them inquisitively. They both pointed to the back of the room where the showers were. He inclined his head at them and turned. The door to the bathroom clicked shut - the door to the stairs also slammed shut behind Mira. Suddenly there was quiet.

Zoey breathed out a long breath as Rumi shuffled over and laced their fingers together.

"Are we doing the right thing?" she asked, softly.

"No idea." Zoey replied, smiling at her and knowing she looked just as tired as Rumi did. "But I think we are at least doing the only thing we can do. It wouldn't have been right to kill him. Or leave him there. We don't know enough. We'd always wonder."

"Yeah," Rumi sighed. "And maybe it matters that they were around him for so long, maybe there's a chance that…"

There was a dull thump from the direction of the shower room. One heartbeat of looking at each other in shock and then the two of them leapt up, racing to the door and banging on it.

"Romance?!" Rumi called out. "Romance, what was that, are you ok?!"

There was no answer.

"I'm going to ram the door." Zoey said, ignoring Rumi's attempt at a protest before launching herself at it, shoulder first. Romance, pervert that he was, hadn't actually locked it, which left Zoe careening into the room to hit the floor tiles with a wet 'oof', sliding along them until she hit something soft and heavy, ending up on her back.

"Oh god." she heard Rumi exclaim from the doorway, sounding like she was trying to not laugh. Which was weird, because why would she be laughing?

She looked round at what had stopped her and realized it was Romance, once again unconscious (she knew he'd looked wobbly) and passed out on the floor. She'd slid into him back first, jolting his body so one arm now lay over her waist like they were spooning.

One, naked arm. Which, as Rumi's cackles from the door started to filter through her ears, made her senses instantly flare out to where his body touched the rest of her body. He was naked everywhere. He was naked everywhere and the collision had left his head gently resting on her shoulder. Really like they were spooning, exhausted after spending the night…oh god. Just at that moment, because the universe hated her, Mira rounded the corner of the door and skidded to a halt, her face dropping in shock.

In no time before this moment or after, or for the rest of time could Zoe remember getting up from the ground so fast. She didn't know where to look.

"Uh," she tried, "Guess he's unconscious again, huh?"

Mira just closed her eyes like she was asking the gods for strength, Rumi's howls of laughter echoing in the background.

This night wasn't getting any less interesting.

Chapter Text

It was more vivid here, this time.

She still couldn't tell where she was, somewhere caught between the deep purple-dark of night and the welcoming, shimmering light of the honmoon. Like she was floating there. Sometimes when she moved to lift her arms in front of her she could see her patterns reflecting both - a newly welcome sight. Sometimes she didn't feel like she had a body at all.

There was a presence with her, always, when she was like this. Somewhere past the honmoon but somehow part of it. Something that watched her from the darkness but didn't feel threatening. Something that had got tantalizing close before, like if she reached out she could touch it, something deep inside her telling her it was trying to reach her, too. But she never could. Could never see it, if there was even something to see. It felt like they were magnets of the same pole - however close they got, there was a force between them that kept them apart.

This time, though, there was something palpable in the air. Like it was more tangible than before. The honmoon around her was different, splintered into so many thousands of tiny strands. Like it had been in the car park with Romance - so much more detailed, so much deeper than it had ever been before. Swimming somewhere in that glittering sea was a presence that felt closer than it had ever been. Even knowing it wouldn't allow her to touch it, she reached out, something yearning in her but she didn't know what for.

This time, thought, it let her. Whatever had been between them no longer was.

She wouldn't be able to describe what it felt like - somewhere between the softest skin and leanest muscle, brushing her hand against an emotion, a part of a person that didn't have form. Only it did here. Not that she could see it, maddeningly. She barely had visual awareness of her own body, but something in her thrummed at the feel of it anyway.

It brushed her back, like the gentlest touch of fingertips against her own. Only suddenly that touch was everywhere - the inside of her wrist, back of her knee, nape of her neck, soft, soft skin at her waist. Tentative, almost awkward but there was a confident patience in those touches that suggested that all awkwardness would dissipate if only she would allow it. A question, she realised with complete clarity. It was a question. Longing tightened deep in her belly, shivering out to the tips of her fingers.

Yes. Yes.

The touch became firmer and focussed, relief flooding from it so obvious it felt like a release of air on her skin. A release of a breath that had been held for too long. In this strange floating place that began to bloom from darkness to the light of dusk and outer-city lights, she closed her eyes and lay back. With whatever body she did or did not have, right now. It felt right to do so. Felt right to trust.

In the touch there were fragments that felt tangible - warm breath at the base of her throat, smooth of thumbs over her palms, the lightest, most tantalizing brush of lips against her own, at the corner of her mouth. The feel of a body against her side, maddeningly brief before it faded again, scrape of something harder and sharper against the underside of her breast, a hunger there that made spots bloom behind her eyes. Her body was on fire with it, breath too precious a thing and her chest heaved, a broken sound coming from her throat as sensation engulfed her nipple, the other, both - she was losing track of where the touch was whilst knowing damn well where it wasn't and where she wanted it most. The restraint was still in it, though, like a desperate flutter of wings against her heart, like whatever presence was with her wanted, wanted but wasn't about to let themselves indulge. Holding back until they shuddered with it. The knowledge of that restraint was so certain she could almost see the shadow of shoulders trembling above her in some undistinguished half-light, stutter of breath against her cheek, the sensation of kissing a mouth that was biting its own lips to stop themselves kissing her. She knew, suddenly, that they'd kiss her like they were drowning. She knew she'd kiss them back the same way.

Somewhere in the blue-pink sky there were patterns - not jagged, like hers, but soft, flowing - familiar somehow because she knew she'd seen them before. Not on skin, thought, not on skin but something harder and sharper, something that glowed with light and was now pulsing. Her body pulsed in response. As did her heart.

She wanted to reach out, tried to but couldn't find her body to do so. It didn't matter, though, she could still feel herself stretching to reach them, to hold, to cling to. It wasn't just sensual, this feeling - there was a defeated press of a forehead to her breastbone, tightening of arms around her waist to pull her, full body and breathless, against a chest and a nose buried in the nape of her neck. There were hands in hers, curling fingers lightly over her palm until they tangled with her own like they never had time to before. Chaste and profane, restrained and desperate, shy and confident. She could feel the same conflicts in herself - it was like every part of them were here all at once - possessive, bashful, lustful, tender. Jagged, soft. There was nowhere to hide any of it and she didn't mind, felt whatever presence was with her marvel at it and follow her - like someone watching a loved one swim in cool waters and slowly building the courage to take slow steps in. She led and she beckoned. It followed.

Only the distance was widening again, she realized. If she was treading water the tide was pulling her farther and farther away, the touches both fading and become more clinging, like they were trying to keep her near. She reached out again but even though she could feel the touch like a brand on her she couldn't find anything to grab hold to. She was being pulled away - down, up she didn't know, but the fire building in her dampened with the cold knowledge that something was being taken from her she wasn't ready to let go. Her mouth opened and she shouted. She knew she was shouting something - a word, a name, a curse - but somehow she couldn't make it out even though it was her voice. The soft lights of the city dissolved into the honmoon, threaded with pale light with streaks of deep, warm pink. The pink thrummed through her, deep enough to move the murky darkness lurking at the edge of everything she was and bringing her lips to a snarl. That snarl worked into her voice and she should care, should worry that she would damage herself but every part of her was too concentrated in calling out. If her body wouldn't help her surely, surely her voice had to, didn't it?

The roar of rage, coupled with the clear note of her song, ripped from her throat until she felt it burn and it burst outwards through the strands, sending shards of pearlescent cream and pink and purple through her, through everything, more powerful than anything she'd ever…

…she woke with a start, sitting bolt upright in the dark room, shuddering and bringing a hand to her stinging throat. Despite the pain, she clearly hadn't actually shouted - Mira was still sleeping beside her. The core of her throbbed, her thighs pressing together in a futile effort to ease the ache. She was breathing hard, a mixture of passion and terror catching in her throat and spurring her pounding heart. The terror started winning, bringing stinging tears to the corner of her eyes and curling her body up so she hugged her own knees. Caught between lust and fear she couldn't filter out any of the truths that surfaced in the dark space between her arms and her knees. No matter how much she tried to tell herself she'd moved on, that terror was rooted in the feeling of watching something being ripped from her she desperately wanted to keep close, of weightless closeness being shattered and she, helpless, able to do nothing but watch.

Of losing him again.

She'd wanted to cuddle back down next to Mira, really she did. The girls had told her in no uncertain terms to wake them, to let them in, let them know what was going on in her head. Only then Rumi had turned to really look at her, so peaceful and trusting in her sleep, and immediately felt like a traitor. How was she supposed to wake her and tell her she was having arousing dreams about someone else? Someone that she knew for a fact at least Mira hated and neither she nor Zoey really understood Rumi's feelings for. A little voice in the back of her head started pointing out that the main reason why they didn't understand was because she hadn't tried to tell them, but she squashed it, violently. She'd only just started succeeding in reassuring Mira she hadn't been leaving them, she wasn't about to heighten her insecurities by telling her she was dreaming about a damn man. Zoey would try and be understanding, Rumi knew she would, but she could just imagine those big eyes trying not to be hurt when she realised that Rumi still cared about him and she couldn't make herself do it. He was dead now, she didn't want the thought of him to hurt them anymore. She was so incredibly, wonderfully grateful that she had them in her life, that they'd given her a second chance - she wasn't going to inflict her grief (and its apparently sexy-dream side effect) on them now.

Derpy had looked at her sadly as she picked her way out of bed, butting his head up against her arm. She ignored him, just like she ignored Sussie and their searing look of judgement (or apathy, or boredom, she never knew). Plus, she knew she was heading straight for the sofa in the living room and Derpy would forgive a lot for the opportunity to cosplay as a weighted blanket.

Sure enough, she woke a few hours later as the sun started lighting up the full windows in front of her, most of her body numb from his strange demon weight on them. She spent a moment admiring the dawn-soaked city laid out in front of her, feeling that sunlight warming her skin, then turned her mind to trying to extract herself. Trying to stand up was a mistake (Zoey had actually written a formula for it: if x = Number of Hours, Weight of Demon Cat x x = Severity of Pins and Needles/Likelihood of Disaster) and Mira found her a few moments later lying on her back on the carpet with Derpy once again draped over her, purring his satisfaction at capturing his wayward mattress. Mira was the best possible friend a girl could have, however, so she said absolutely nothing about it, just asked if Rumi wanted coffee and 'accidentally' knocked a mug over on the counter, finally luring Derpy away.

Sussie took the opportunity to land perfectly between Rumi's breasts, claws digging into her soft pyjama top. They somehow managed to pin her gaze with every single one of their six yellow eyes, which really shouldn't have been physically possible. The tilt of their hat told Rumi that she was being judged and, most likely, found wanting. Something about the weight of them meant she still couldn't get up (way too much bulk for a bird), so she ended up bribing them with the promise of bacon and they fluffed their feathers haughtily before flying over to land on Mira's shoulder. For some reason, Rumi mused from the floor, Sussie's weight never seemed to bother Mira. Mira never said whether it was because Sussie was less heavy when they perched on her or whether she was just hench as fuck. In fact, the matching grins she and Sussie had given them were so similar Zoey had checked the honmoon to make sure Mira's soul wasn't being invaded.

Breakfast was a pensive affair, at least to start with. Mira wasn't one for small talk in the morning and, honestly, neither was Rumi. Usually it was Zoey rambling on whilst the two of them took turns giving her heart-eyes. Without her there was just a companionable silence, which Rumi found just as precious. It took a lot for her to be comfortable in silence with someone. She basked in it over breakfast, trying not to think about everything she didn't know. Trying even harder not to think about who she suspected they should ask.

The group chat had been updated by Zoey every hour overnight trying to find more creative ways to say 'he's still unconscious'. She'd clearly had time to think about some of them. It may also have been a way to distract them from remembering The Bathroom Incident. Rumi hadn't stopped laughing till her sides hurt and it hurt to breathe. Some of that mirth came back as she dragged her stool closer to Mira's and they read through the texts together. Even Mira couldn't help her lip curling a little. It also seemed that Romance had woken up at some point, just long enough for Zoey to bribe him with reheated french fries to tell them that there was no way he was 'poofing' anywhere - that apparently needed access to Hell, which neither he nor anyone else had right now.

Once finished, Mira slowly allowed her phone to rest on the counter and Rumi linked arms with her, leaning her head on her shoulder and basking in her warmth. This was the comfort she needed - she only wished she knew how to tell Mira how much.

"So are we thinking the same thing?" Mira asked finally, her voice coming from somewhere above Rumi's head.

"That we have no idea what's going on?" Rumi asked back.

"That we are certifiably insane for bringing a demon home?"

"That we seem to be losing control of the shape of our weapons from the honmoon?"

"That you fucking sang the honmoon into some kind of spider web?"

"That you then wove it out of its tangle around said demon's head with your glowy, glowy hands…"

"…whilst he was being held down by Zoey's knife-net-bdsm-dream-weapon-thing?"

"Don't say that in front of Zoey she'll use it as a song lyric."

"Don't distract me from my marvelling at our stupidity."

"You want to go downstairs and kill him right now?"

"…..no."

"Is that because his hair is so…soft?"

Mira pulled away to throw a handful of orange peel masterfully at Rumi's face. It was absolutely worth it. Even when, whilst Rumi was brushing her cheeks to get rid of the pith, Mira's strong fingers slid around her chin and lifted her head so she was looking directly in her face. Rumi's breath caught out of habit and she could feel herself blushing. It was also habit, with an ease and immediate acquiescence she suddenly realized she was craving, for Rumi to wait, relaxing in Mira's grip until Mira asked her to do something else.

Unfortunately for Rumi's re-awakened sex drive, Mira didn't seem to want to do anything that involved removing Rumi's clothing, just searched her face for something before nodding like she'd found it, humming slightly and letting go of Rumi's face. Rumi could feel the shadow of those fingers for a while afterwards.

Rumi should have known what it was about, really. It was still a bit of a shock, though, when they were busy clearing up after breakfast and Mira told Rumi flatly that she was going to be the one who called Celine, in a tone that dared Rumi to disagree. She'd tried to, really, but Mira brushed past her with a possessive pull of her hand on Rumi's hip and a firm kiss on her forehead that made Rumi's heart skip a beat. She went to look up only for Mira to nip at the shell of her ear and press their foreheads together like she was pre-emptively curbing any argument.

"The whole point was that you didn't do this alone anymore, Mimi." she said, low and deep. As she walked past on the way to her own shower, Rumi felt the familiar thrill of feeling completely protected and incredibly aroused. Mira often incited these feelings in her. And then refused to do anything about it until Rumi was all but begging. Or just straight begging, actually.

They brought Zoey a cheeky takeaway breakfast as a thank you for taking first watch on Romance. He wasn't quite unconscious, his two beautiful eyes cracking open from his place cocooned in the bedroll they'd laid out for him before he grumbled and pulled the duvet over his head. They sat together in the far corner and Mira filled them in on what Celine had said. Rumi could almost picture her face pinching in concern, eyes serious and earnest. She'd believe every word. The feeling of comfort and security Rumi had always felt at this moment clashed hideously with this new, jagged feeling she didn't want to identify. Mira took that moment to shift beside her, her body warm as it coincidentally brought them closer together. She didn't miss beat, like it hadn't even happened and Rumi felt the familiar frustration of wanting to respond but not feeling able to. Only, she could now, couldn't she?

Taking a little breath she moved to link her arm (her bare arm) gently with Mira's, laying her hand relaxed on Mira's knee. Then Mira missed a beat, but only one. She squeezed Rumi's arm to her tight and Rumi watched Zoey try and fail not to smile. Very difficult to hide anything from anyone when they were sitting basically in each other's laps anyway and could read each other's body language like a book.

Celine, according to Mira, had taken detailed descriptions of how their weapons had shifted and promised to research if any previous Hunters had held them. Her current working theory was that the new honmoon may be reflecting echoes of previous hunters, but she 'was prepared to be wrong'. Mira had been intentionally vague about the demon and told Celine that it had escaped after they had been thrown off by the weapon change. There was something effortless in the way she lied that Rumi was still uncomfortable with - she had loved the stories Mira told about her own family but had never, ever thought she'd have to do it with Celine. Well, not really. She'd got pretty good at telling her how much they'd all been training and that's why they were breathless and their faces were red when Celine had done unexpected visits to their quarters at the temple. But not important things like this, like choosing not to kill a demon and bringing it home instead.

Speaking of which, she checked over at where Romance was and saw those eyes peaking out from under the duvet again. They seemed to be fixated on Zoey's breakfast. Well, he could come and ask them for food if he really wanted some. She didn't care at all about his hunger, or his comfort. Sure.

She looked up from ordering another breakfast a few moments later when Mira concluded her report - Celine had predictably suggested trying to recreate the weapons, which is what they'd all been thinking anyway. Not that she had any idea how to do that. Neither did either of the others if their expressions were any judge. They all ended up looking at Romance with various levels of concentration.

"That's very disconcerting, you know."

Derpy took that moment to appear out of the floor.

Rumi tried really hard to cover her laugh as Romance immediately let out a shriek higher pitched than Zoey on a sugar-high and leapt out of bed. It really wasn't helped by the realization that Mira had followed through on her promise and given Romance a pair of My Little Pony Pinkie Pie pyjama bottoms. Zoey was full cackling and Mira had snorted like a sailor, though, so she wasn't the worst out of them.

He lay on the ground for a moment, propped up on his hands, staring at the demon cat now into the room up to his shoulders, panting slightly. His chest was so damn smooth, Rumi thought. And skinny. She chanced a glance at Mira. Who was looking. Smooth, pale and skinny, Rumi thought. Honestly the aesthetic would work.

"Doesn't he like you?" Zoey asked as Derpy turned to them all with a low, ominous creak.

"Other than our gracious leader he only ever really let Mystery touch him." Romance responded, somewhat breathlessly. "And Abby, actually."

"What about Sussie?" Rumi added.

"Who?"

"The bird with the sass." Mira filled in.

"Oh. That thing. Baby. But only because I think he kept feeding it raw meat when we weren't looking."

"So basically no one likes you."

"You like me."

"How'd you figure that!?" Mira asked, a little too defensively, if Rumi had to judge. Romance turned over and smirked at her, only slightly spoiled by his little nervous glances over at Derpy.

"Well we got on so well at the fan signing, didn't we?"

"I nearly killed you."

"But you didn't kill me."

"There were people there!"

"I love how you are with your fans - I can see why they look up to you."

"You…"

Mira stuttered a little and Rumi cringed a little for her. She decided, as a good friend and supportive lover, that she wouldn't notice that Mira was blushing. From Romance's face, he had done.

"Abby always wanted to do a dance collaboration with you - he was our main choreographer, you know. The dance break for How It's Done really inspired him."

Mira made a slightly strangled sound and Rumi felt for her even more - she'd always been a sucker for people complimenting her choreographic skills. Romance was good.

"I thought Jinu did that." Zoey said, Rumi seeing her visibly cringe a little as she realized she'd said a name they were all avoiding. Rumi actively decided not to care and concentrated on the demon in the room, instead. Romance shifted so he was cross-legged. There was a strangely distorted picture of Pinkie Pie right on his…

"He did. Along with Abby - Jinu was the ideas man, Abby knew how to make a body talk. Sing, actually."

There was a low husk to his voice on that last. Rumi tried not to think about it. She failed and ended up trying to blink images of them entangled out of her brain. The fear might have faded from her dream last night but she really needed to do something about the lingering arousal waiting to pounce at any inopportune moment.

"Stop with the flirting, you creep. None of us are interested."

The room got very quiet for a moment. Derpy creaked. Romance jumped. Mira laughed. A little too hard, but Rumi was being unsupportive again.

"I really wish he'd just come all the way through the floor." Romance grumbled.

"Knock something over." Zoey suggested kindly. "He likes that."

Romance looked quizzically at her. The doorbell rang.

"That'll be your breakfast, I hope you like hotdogs." Rumi said, pushing herself up.

"You got me breakfast?"

"We're not here to starve you." Zoey reassured him, overly sweetly.

She and Rumi locked gazes, flicking over to where Mira was glaring at Romance for a second. Those eyes twinkled slightly and Rumi grinned.

"Although," she mused, rubbing a finger over her chin in mock thoughtfulness. "We really do have a few things to discuss about our new album, don't we Zoey?"

"Yeah, I was going to talk to you about it last night," Zoey agreed slyly. "But then I had to be down here so…"

"You won't mind dropping Romance's breakfast down to him and keeping watch, would you Mira? You are the best of us." Rumi finished, leaning in and kissing Mira full on the cheek. Mira's mouth was open in building outrage - it was time to scarper.

"We'll pop the breakfast at the top of the stairs, Mira!" Zoey yelled, already out of the door. Rumi scuttled after her, scritching between Derpy's ears on the way.

"Guys? Guys don't leave me here with him. Guys? Hey!"

Chapter Text

Rumi and Zoey were traitors, both of them. Complete betrayers, to leave her here with this creature who was delicately picking off bits of his croissant whilst looking out of the window. His perfectly lean chest was smooth like the bastard waxed it and there was the hint of hipbones holding on those stupid pink pyjama bottoms. Which didn't look good on him. At all. He looked stupid. Yes he did. She especially hated how delicate his fingers looked as they tore off a tiny piece of pastry and brought it to his lips, which were so infuriating Mira refused to think about them. She even thought she saw a dart of tongue flick over them at one point to catch a wayward crumb. Disgusting.

Not that she was watching. Everything about him was irritating, including the fact that he'd somehow found a spare hair tie in the bathroom hold his hair loosely at the nape of his neck. Especially that, actually. There were some strands just escaping that brushed over…

"Keep looking at me like that and your face will get stuck that way."

Mira was pretty sure that he was supposed to be more scared of her Number-One-Most-Terrifying-Mira-Glare. Instead, he smiled (actually, smiled!) and turned back to the window.

"You're the worst." she said, lamely.

He huffed.

"Not the first time I've been called that, sweet thing."

"Don't call me that."

He looked over, cocking his head and running his hand over his face like he was observing her. Mira hated it. It also seemed to be getting a little warm in here, she needed to check the heating wasn't on.

"How about…darling?"

"No."

"Cutie Pie?"

"I will kill you."

"Mistress?"

"…"

"I can't tell if that face is a good or bad thing."

"I'm… I'm going to rip out your…"

"Well, I'm going to take it as a good thing. Mistress it is."

"Don't you dare, you….just…eat your damn breakfast!"

"Yes, Mistress."

Oh but Rumi and Zoey were going to pay for every moment of this. Every flush of her cheeks, frantic beat of her heart, subtle squeeze of her thighs as she shifted in her seat. They were going to pay for all of it.

Why did he have to say it like that? All husky and demure? Like it cost him nothing, not one bit of manly pride, to submit to her like that.

She really shouldn't have thought the word 'submit'.

His lips pressed together in what was clearly him laughing at her.

"I'm going to throw you off the balcony."

"There's a balcony?" he asked, sounding hopeful.

"Obviously" she replied, without thinking any further ahead than wanting him out of her sight. "Through the door."

He'd actually disappeared through said door before she remembered that him being in her sight was actually the whole point. When she darted through to the balcony, however, he was just leaning his elbows on the solid railing, looking out over the city.

"Not very far I can go, you know."

"Can't you fly?"

"I don't think I'm going to test that right now."

"What about, you know, the poofing?"

He turned sideways to shoot her a sardonic look.

"The what?"

"You know," Mira explained testily, coming up beside him to lean back against the barrier, her arms crossed. There was a couple of feet between them that were far more significant than they should be. "The disappearing into smoke thing?"

"Your little friend didn't tell you? Honestly she quizzed me so thoroughly when I was conscious I preferred not to be."

Zoey had, of course, told them. Apparently the poofing away meant poofing back into Hell, which seemed not to obey the normal laws of geography and distance and so therefore could be used to travel at distance in the real world. It wasn't something every demon could do, most needed Gwi-Ma's dubious summons to traverse whatever was between the two.

"I was just checking." Mira grumbled. He huffed a little.

"No, no. I'm nicely stuck here, don't you worry."

"I knew I was going to regret letting you live."

He just smirked at that, looking out over the city again. Mira didn't really know what to say. So she didn't, happy to be silent and concentrate on not looking over at at how the strands of hair that had escaped the messy 'tail were brushing over the pale nape of his neck.

Apparently, Romance had more trouble with silence.

"So what was it for you, then?" he asked softly, leaning his head on one elbow as he looked at her. Soft as his voice was, there was that assessing look on his face again that said he was finding a way to laugh at her.

"What was what?"

"The final straw? The crossing of the Rubicon? What got you kicked out?" he asked finally.

"What got me…what makes you think that is any of your business?"

"Nothing really," he replied easily, shrugging. "Just making conversation."

"Well that's not a topic I talk about. Pick something else."

"For me it was getting caught being bent over my teacher's desk. If you're wondering."

Mira was momentarily stunned into silence. He noticed, looked over and grinned again. "Oh yes," he went on. "An upright son of a good proper family doing his duty by going to university? You know the type - parents who are all 'family honour is worth more than money but we also have a shit tonne of that'? Oh they didn't like that at all."

"You…got kicked out?"

His laugh was low in his chest.

"Yes, darling. I got kicked out. Middle child of three brothers, it's not as if they lost anything."

There was a current of bitterness there, deep and quiet and so familiar Mira could almost feel it coating her tongue. So she laughed at him.

"Well perhaps if you and your little student friend had picked a better place than your teacher's damn desk…"

There was sin in his laugh and she couldn't help leaning back a bit as he tilted himself towards her, something dark and hard in his eyes. Something that looked like pride but was built on paper scaffolds.

"Oh sweetheart it wasn't a student. I was being bent over my teacher's desk…by my teacher."

Speechless. Again. This was becoming inconvenient. "He was fine, of course. Good upstanding man with tenure. Me? Homeless overnight, I'm afraid."

He sounded so blasé about it. So uncaring. Mira knew from experience it was all bullshit and had no idea what to do with that knowledge. It felt too personal - she had no idea why he was sharing it all of a sudden. He wasn't done. "Have you any idea how expensive skin routines are when you have nothing? Honestly it didn't bear thinking about - I'm just glad I had enough time to steal most of my mother's lotions and potions before they came after me with pitchforks."

"Pitchforks?"

"Well, no, not pitchforks exactly. My sister-in-law was wielding a broom, though. Come to think of it that was the only time I ever saw her sully her hands with one…

"How old were you?" Mira asked softly, immediately. She didn't know why it mattered. The question had surprised him a little, though - it had interrupted his flow of utter horseshit.

He took a short enough moment to recover that if Mira wasn't as good at reading people as she was she would have missed it.

"Eighteen. First term of university, in fact - never finished it. Everyone was very disappointed, as you can imagine."

Mira was quiet again, thinking. He took another breath to speak and she reached out and put a hand full over his face.

"Shut up. People need time to think, you know."

She crossed her arms again and he was clearly so stunned or offended by someone stopping him talking by squishing his nose with their palm he obeyed her. Honestly, though, she wasn't sure what she wanted to think about. This hadn't been what she'd expected. It probably should have been, especially given Rumi's recent experiences, but some part of her was still desperately trying to make demons easy bad guys. He could still be playing her, of course, letting her see his tragic backstory to get her to feel sorry for him. Only he was either not doing it very well (which she highly doubted given Jinu had chosen him for the biggest charm offensive in recent demonic history) or he was genuinely shaken enough he didn't know what else to talk about.

She looked over at him, really looked at him. For Rumi's sake, she tried to lift the veil of 'demon' and just look at him. He looked slightly uncomfortable but held his ground. This gave him a few points.

He had well-groomed, soft hands and delicate feet that poked out from under the ridiculous pyjama pants. He was looking good in said pants like any piece of fabric hung off his body would look amazing. Pretty face, big eyes, arrogant but slightly pathetic, foppish demeanour. Mira had met him before, she realized. Not actually, but she'd met his exact type at the functions she'd been forced to go to when she was younger. Now she wasn't just seeing demon patterns it was obvious that he was just a rich fancy-boy. Too much money, too little sense, no sense of the consequence of his actions until it was too late. It didn't occur to her to question whether or not his story was true - there had been enough like it.

"I was sixteen," she heard herself saying. "It was less one particular thing, though, more of a build up to an inevitable conclusion kind of thing."

He looked even more confused for a moment (it was an attractive look on him, she thought) but then his eyes widened as he realized what she was telling him. She was just glad she'd made sense - she was clumsy at this. The smile that spread over his face was still arrogant, but with enough tentativeness she decided she was allowed to like it. Putting him off-kilter was a darn sight more pleasurable than the other way round.

"Oh? No big blow out then?"

"I didn't say that." she replied, finding one corner of her mouth lifting in a grin. "There may have been a confrontation that ended up in me screaming point blank into my mother's face."

"Ooh, do tell."

"I don't know, something along the lines of 'she's not my friend, she's my fucking girlfriend, mother, you birthed a fucking lesbian'."

Her knowing look took a moment to be reflected in his face in a rather delicious, understanding expression of scandal.

"You are joking."

"Nope."

"You too?"

"I guess."

He laughed, the kind that tilted his head back a little. There was still that bitterness there, but Mira could forgive that now she knew where it was from. The other side of her mouth lifted. She decided she wasn't going to admit that she was smiling with him. Not yet.

"Well, well. And are you?"

"Am I what?"

"A lesbian, sweet thing."

"Oh. I mean, I guess."

He raised his eyebrows at her but said nothing, settling into a pensive expression before going to ask something and clearly thinking better of it. She glared at him in response and he waved her away.

"Well, no matter. Turns out I was less gay than slutty for everything, if you're interested. Although probably if I had to choose…"

He mused for a moment, looking over at her.

"If you start assessing whether or not you'd sleep with me, I will…"

"…throw me over this balcony, yes yes." he placated, hands up, backing away for a moment. "Not that any assessing needs to be done, mark you."

There was a thread of heat in his gaze that she had no idea what to do with, so she just scoffed at him before biting her lips a little.

"It's not exactly the same." she said, uncomfortable and not sure why. She didn't even really know what she wanted to say next.

"No?"

"I had somewhere to go." she responded, realizing as she said it that mattered to her he knew that. Knew that she saw her own privilege in having the temple and the girls. The girls especially. She glanced over at him and saw him just looking at her, waiting for her to explain. "The temple. Where Hunters train. I was already there by the time I left so I could go there. To the others."

"Your girls, you mean?" he prompted, enough softness in his voice to take most of the edge off her defensiveness.

"Yes. I already knew I had a place with them. That they accepted me. I left, I wasn't kicked out. I had somewhere to go."

She sighed in frustration. "I'm sorry you didn't, ok? I know what it meant to me and I'm sorry if you didn't have that."

"I didn't." he agreed after a moment of silence, very quiet. "But I suppose if you're sorry I didn't, I'm glad that you did have it."

His smile was self-deprecating when she focussed on him. "Well we might as well be civil, might we not? Apparently we didn't start so very different, you and I."

She appreciated that he'd used the word 'start'. Because they were very different now, no matter being able to share a little of their trauma.

"Is that part of why you went to Gwi-Ma?" she asked. "Your family? Were they part of the deal you made with him?"

He stilled, in a way she'd only ever seen demons do, a way that made the hairs at the back of her neck rise. When he turned to her his face was utterly unreadable. Beautiful, but cold again, something twisted in the set of his mouth as he moved gently closer to her. Closer still, closer enough she could count his eyelashes if she wanted to. She stayed still out of principal, not wanting him to see he was frightening her but her heart was pounding under her crossed arms. She didn't think he was going to attack her, but…

"What would you give your soul for?" he asked, his voice barely a whisper. It was sinful this close to her, slipping into her ears like temptation made audible. There was glimmer in his eyes that wasn't from the sun and she felt his mind brush hers, not to actually invade, but almost like he was reminding her he could if she weren't a Hunter. Her own breath caught in her throat.

"What?" she asked, feeling suddenly stupid. His smile grew wider, warmer, unsettling.

"What would you give your soul for, my Mira? No lies, no self-delusion - what would you give your soul for?"

The vapid images of world-peace and more dance talent shattered in place of snatched, terrified snapshots of clenched hands still wondering if she was good enough, desperate longings for peace just for her and her own, someone to take the permanent lump of resentment still burning in her belly away. Deep feelings from places she rarely went alone, let alone with anyone else. Let alone with an enemy. His eyes were so fucking beautiful this close.

"That is none of your damn business." she bit out with ground teeth.

"And even if it were," Romance continued, un-phased and moving his body in a slow ripple towards her so there was barely an inch between them. "Even if it were anyone's business, would you tell them? Especially when you know that want they want from you isn't the actual answer, it's so that they judge you on whether or not they would do the same thing?"

The smile turned jagged and he stepped away, arms opening as, looking directly into her eyes, he changed from the face down, patterns skating over his body, paler than they'd been before but still there, his skin turning a lavender made sickly and wan in the sunlight. "When you know that your exposing that part of your soul is simply so that they can judge whether or not was worth it?"

She looked at him, displaying himself for her, those hands coming back into his body to run over the patterns at his neck, his ribs, leading up to his mouth and realized what she had just asked. Even with a full demon standing in front of her flaunting all the proof of the deal he had made, there was only one thing she could think to say.

"I'm sorry."

"Oh sweet thing, do you pity me now?"

"Don't 'sweet thing', me. Not for your deal. For asking."

He stilled again, waiting for whatever judgement she was going to bring. She felt an odd, uncomfortable relief that she was going to disappoint him in that. "I didn't think about what asking that question meant. I shouldn't have asked. You had a boundary. I crossed it. I'm sorry."

He blinked a few times, his arms wilting from their display, looking completely nonplussed. Tried a couple of times to say something before thinking better of it. Enough times she couldn't quite hide the turn up of her lips. It was kind of cute.

"I don't know what to say to that."

"Start with turning back you freak."

"You do realize that this is my true form?"

"I do."

"…I'll do it anyway?"

"You'll do it anyway."

He did it anyway, flicking his hands together nervously. She decided two things: firstly, she liked him nervous and secondly, kindness was occasionally overrated. "Tea would be nice, by the way."

"What?"

She really needed to be careful of how much she enjoyed his fish-face of surprise.

"There's a whole kitchen on this floor. I'm thinking of having some tea before I get so antsy I…"

"..put my head through a window, yes. Well that's lovely for you, you should make us some."

To be fair to him, he had recovered and was back to arrogant again, a hand on one cocked hip. She full grinned at him, liking how it put that intrigued but definitely wary look on his face.

"You don't know how to make tea, do you?"

"I had people to do that for me."

"And when you went broke?" They were walking inside now, him trailing behind her.

"I still had people to do that for me. Money isn't the only way to make people give you what you want, you know."

She tried to stop and look at him then, to check whether he was making the insinuation she thought he was. To her outrage, however, he was ready for her and those delicate, strangely strong hands turned her firmly to look forwards again, propelling her towards the middle of them room. He released her quickly and darted away, laughter behind his eyes as she turned on him with a glare and a raised first, transitioning smoothly into big, pathetic eyes and a down-turned mouth. She didn't like that development at all.

"Why are you looking at me like…"

"I'm just so parched, Mistress. And weak. You will help me quench my thirst, won't you?"

"…"

"…pummel my face into dust, yes I know. Now where is this kitchen?"

Chapter Text

Mira managed to not do Romance actual bodily harm during the tea-making process, although the temptation was strong. She wasn't used to being rendered unable to speak - when she wanted to say something, she said it - but she'd never quite met a man (or anyone) who was as blunt as she was without saying anything at all. It was infuriating. It occurred to her that her inability to cope with anything vaguely sexual in nature was not helping. For example, all he needed to do when she demanded he put a shirt on was ask if he was distracting her in that stupid deep voice of his (which should be criminal paired with such a pretty face), and she was left once again stuttering with her mouth open like a fish.

It was strangely domestic when Zoey and Rumi returned, poking their heads round the door in case she threw something at them. She glared, Romance said something insulting like how they didn't need to worry because Mira hadn't ravished him yet, she threw something at him instead, Zoey snorted whilst laughing at them both…it was weird. She ended up leaning against one of the walls of the training room, uneasy with it all. Zoey and Rumi were sitting on the floor on the other side of the room, trying to draw what their weapons had looked like. They'd tried to pull them from the honmoon earlier and it hadn't worked. Romance had decided to be out of the room for that bit. Zoey had just suggested trying to recreate what had happened before, that perhaps if they were looking at Romance and trying to summon their weapons that it might work - Rumi wasn't sure.

Romance himself had just come back in (still refusing to wear a shirt) and had paused to listen, standing between the two of them and where Mira stood, his back to her. She used the moment to try and observe him, tea mug held gently in his hands. Everything about him was languid. Or should have been. She was just beginning to tense with the feeling that something was off about him when he turned his head to her and caught her looking. His eyes were burning, suddenly.

The tea mug hit the floor and then he was on her.

It happened so fast she nearly didn't have time to react, reaching behind her as she pushed off the wall and swinging the glaive up so the shaft met his suddenly clawed hands, his face suddenly full of rage right up close to hers. She heard twin cries of dismay from the others, but all she could look at was his face.

"The hell was that?" she hissed. "You know damn well I could have just sliced you in half!"

"Oh I don't think so," he spat back, lip curling and something like desperation in his eyes. "That wouldn't be much good for your little experiment, would it?"

He lunged again, pushing her backwards with a strength that surprised her. She sprang back, motioning for the others to stay where they were and watched him again as they circled each other. His face was angry, but his eyes were wide - desperation hadn't quite been the right word. There was fear, yes, but something darker and more jagged there, too. He growled and sprung forward again and she let him, side-stepping out the way of his talons, ducking an arm, planting a foot directly in his chest and pushing him away. He was barely trying. She felt vaguely insulted. That feeling soon grew into anger, all the weirdness and the unexpectedness and awkwardness coalescing into something she could work with. Anger was an old friend and she welcomed it.

She snarled right back and leapt at him this time. On the offensive, she watched those eyes go wide with real fear before he spun out of the way, fast enough she knew she'd been right to think he was just playing. So she pushed harder, pivoted off her landing foot to hurtle straight back at him. They clashed once, twice, something thrilling about the push of those muscles and how well his strength matched hers. She found herself laughing low in her throat and it set something off in him, outrage smoothing his face until rage replaced it again. He was sloppy with his next flurry of attacks and she parried each one until she found her opening, swinging the heavy blade up to pull back at the last minute so that it kissed his throat and held there. He froze immediately.

The sense of power buffeted through her in the sudden silence - with the edge of her blade she held him still, could probably move him with it if she wanted, like a damn puppeteer. The urge to do so was nearly overwhelming, something suddenly incredibly vulnerable in the pale column of his neck, rise and fall of his chest. She was a pace or two from him but when their eyes met he could have been close enough to kiss. There were swirls of deep amber in his brown eyes and something thrummed in her when she realized he wasn't afraid. Or if he was, that his pride was currently winning over his fear. Something in his expression dared her to do it, move that blade like a dance over his throat till his blood soaked the matting. She was vividly reminded of him standing out on the balcony in the sunlight, daring her to judge him for selling his soul when she didn't even know why. Knowing that she had already. The new patterns on the flat of the blade almost looked like they were shifting, casting a strange light on his face. In that light he looked both very old and heartbreakingly young all at the same time.

Zoey and Rumi were shadows of colour behind them and, in an instant, Mira knew two things for certain. That she could do it, kill him right here. And that she didn't want to.

His eyelids fluttered and in the next instant, she knew what he was going to do.

She adjusted for it.

He went to surge forward and she let him, moving so the kiss of her blade drew a faint line along the side of his neck, not his throat. She couldn't quite stop herself from bleeding him, just a little. He wasn't expecting her to meet him and she didn't quite know what she wanted to do, either, only that she wanted suddenly to reach for him, bring back that posh fancy-boy and banish this horrible, bitter creature that would rather dance with death than wait to be experimented on.

She pulled the blade away and her rear hand came up to grab him by the throat, to cover the blood in case she'd cut too deep and grind him down to the floor to keep him there. Only the hand that came up shone in her peripheral and the sound he made when it touched his skin sounded like all the breath had gone out of him. It nearly did as she rode him to the floor, straddling his chest and putting weight behind that hand, now gloved so just the tips of her fingers and thumb were exposed.

"Stay down," she growled, "Just stay…"

He writhed underneath her, hands coming up to hover over her knuckles as his eyes clenched shut. Another guttural sound came from him and whilst she wasn't about to let go, her eyebrows creased in worry. "Does it hurt?"

Something other than concern bloomed in her as the breath came out of him in a helpless groan.

"I don't…know."

"If I let go, will you stay down?"

"Don't. It's too intense, I don't know what…I don't…gods what…"

His body undulated under hers again, eyelids fluttering closed and his hands getting brave enough to rest on her wrist. The barest touch of his fingers felt like a brand on her skin and she wished she could blame it on the power swirling between them. Something about the tableau consolidated in her mind and suddenly his shifting body, head thrown back with lips parted and fingers delicately on her hand around his throat hit her like a train. Arousal pooled deep within her, sudden enough it almost took her own breath away.

She ripped her hand away from him like it was burning and the bastard whimpered, actually whimpered as she did so. His body went boneless the same way Zoey's did if either of them had been torturing her with a vibe on slightly too high a setting and suddenly moved it away. She couldn't quite stop herself from settling her weight on him, needing time to breathe, time to think. Only he was still too close, she couldn't stop looking at his mouth, wet from a quick swipe of his tongue as he tried to control his own breathing.

She shimmied backwards, only to come up short, this particular surprise stopping her almost as dead-still as Rumi could go and making him grunt slightly. She felt his whole body shudder underneath her, and, pressed against him the way she was, that shudder hit a part of her that sent a singing echo though her blood to catch her breath in her throat.

His eyes opened fully to look at her. She watched as he took in her face, the hand now resting impotently on his stomach, where precisely she was sitting and then back up to her face. Outrageously, he seemed rather put out by the expression he found there.

"Well you can't exactly blame me for that, now, can you?" he asked, a breathy edge to his voice that did nothing to calm the fire she was currently trying to dampen. He pushed himself up suddenly on shaky arms so that she instinctively caught her balance by hooking an arm around his shoulders. Her brain helpfully supplied the information that this was one of her favourite positions to take Zoey in, sat in her lap and wrapped around her. How would it feel the other way round, her brain wondered.

Her brain was a traitor to the cause.

His eyes, dark and wide and very, very close, pulled her out of her internal conflict. His mouth was close enough to her cheek she could smell the sweet tea on his breath. "Besides, " he whispered, terrifyingly intimate. "Don't try to tell me I'm the only one. You're burning up. Right here."

He shifted slightly, making it suddenly very clear to her that if she could feel how hard he was in those damn pyjamas, then he, if he pushed his hips up the way he had just now, would be able to feel her burning heat bare millimetres above him. The only consolation she had was that those little ripples of his body that had brought them together pushed the breath out of him the same way it pushed the breath out of her.

She was about to punch him fully in the face when he groaned again and thunked his head on her shoulder. "Can we not fight now?" he asked, sounding ragged. "I think I need a minute."

Speechless. Again. Thankfully and mercifully, Rumi decided that was the moment to remind the two of them that they weren't alone.

"Mira are we good? We're both here any time you need us to pummel him."

She looked up at them and something in her panicked expression clearly kicked off every leader and maternal instinct Rumi had. Her eyes hardened. "Ok. Zoey get Mira up, let me get him out from under…oh god!"

"Yeah." Mira said wearily, finding it difficult to muster the strength to form any words at all.

"You didn't say anything!"

"I couldn't - I just damn sat on it. Ugh I think I need therapy!"

"Guys what are we talking abou….oh my."

"Ladies, please. If I knew that all defeating Huntrix would take is waving a few semi-erect cocks around the place all this could have been ended far sooner."

"Well, it's just that…"

"It's just right there and I literally just sat right…"

"Now that I've noticed it's not like I can't just…hey!" Zoey cried, cutting through the panicked mumbling. "Why are we the ones who're embarrassed? Shouldn't you be the one who's embarrassed?"

Romance looked up at her from the floor with a rather delicious, bemused frown on his face. Annoying frown, Mira corrected. It was definitely annoying. Not delicious at all.

"Why should I be? I get my throat held by a beautiful, commanding woman wearing a glove drenched in magic that sets every nerve I have on fire - it's a natural reaction. What's there to be embarrassed about? Unless you ladies are thinking about what you're planning on doing with it…"

"Ew, no!"

"I will kill you."

"No one is planning anything!"

"Well then," Romance soothed, sounding irritatingly like the adult in the room. "I suggest we all calm down."

"And when we do, are you going to go for Mira again?" Rumi asked, the seriousness in her tone cutting through the chaos. He paused and looked over at Mira. There was a flicker of something defeated in his face before he smiled back up at Rumi.

"That was all for science, dear one. All for science. And we've found something out, I suppose, haven't we?"

"Have we?" Zoey asked, looking at Mira again. She hadn't taken her eyes off Romance and he'd noticed. "I mean your glaive didn't change straight away, what happened?"

Mira didn't know how to answer. Or where to look. So she said nothing and looked at the floor. The arousal that had felt so right a moment before now felt clammy and uncomfortable as her heart beat it around her body. She wasn't supposed to feel this way. Not for a demon. Not for a man.

"Would you have killed him?" Rumi asked, quiet and suddenly closer. Mira shook herself a moment and took a second to really hear the question, breathing a little easier when she found that she had an answer to give.

"Yes."

"Did you want to?"

Mira met her eyes, heart beating a little faster, because that was the whole damn point, wasn't it? Like from the moment that demon veil had come off she'd been struggling to put it back on. Rumi, though? Rumi's face was open and encouraging and any fear Mira had ever had about being rejected melted in the warmth of those eyes.

"No."

"Why?"

This was from Romance, that note of desperation thinning his deep voice. She looked at him.

"I don't know."

"What do you mean, you don't know?"

"I don't know. In that moment I didn't want to kill you - it wasn't the time. I don't know why. It happened."

She held his gaze, resolute, and he stared back at her for a long moment before shaking his head and reaching up to his throat like he was clutching imaginary pearls.

"Goodness but her honesty is rather refreshing, isn't it?"

"That's our Mira." Zoey chirped, finding a way to wriggle under Mira's arm. She watched Romance see it, eyes flicking back up to Mira. Where she was expecting smugness, instead she saw a surprisingly genuine little smile.

"So it seems. And aren't you lucky to have her."

Mira felt Rumi and Zoey stop in their tracks at the same time she felt heat rising in her cheeks. He noticed that, too and Mira watched as delight and imminent teasing opened his expression.

"Shut up." she snapped, hoping to nip it in the bud. Instead he grinned languidly and, of all things, winked at her.

"Yes, Mistress." he breathed.

As the world descended into scandalized gasps, laughing wheezes and that smug smile coupled with a gaze that refused to leave hers no matter how much she glared at it, Mira considered her companions and updated her assessment. All three of them were traitors. All three of them.

Chapter Text

They ended up all sitting by the window, Zoey and Rumi having dragged some more mattresses from one of the side rooms for them to sit on. Romance had freshened up in the bathroom whilst the three of them cooled down, although Mira's death glare when he came out had at least persuaded him to put a shirt on. It was a short-sleeved pyjama shirt that matched the My Little Pony trousers and should not, absolutely should not have looked as good on him as it did.

The training room took up most of one end of the Snug and the floor-to-ceiling windows curved in a wide arc around them all as they sat in silence. Mira tried not to notice how Romance had dragged his bed over to one of the sides where there was at least a stretch of solid wall, next to where the matting of the floor gave way to the normal wooden floor of the flat. Perhaps it was because it was closest to the little open kitchen and not because he was looking for the closest thing he could to any kind of safety or enclosure. Sure.

They were all sitting with various degrees of awkwardness and the silence was oppressive. Mira thought she was probably at one end of the awkwardness scale, back up against the window and arms around her drawn up knees. Romance, damn him to Hell and also apparently back from it, was at the other end, lying on his back with his head resting on a rolled up towel. He'd proclaimed he felt faint. Mira rather thought that was bullshit. She also realized she'd been staring at his crotch again. Fuck.

"Shouldn't that have healed by now?" Zoey asked finally, mouth full of apple slice. She'd been nervous-eating for the past five minutes.

Romance lazily turned his head over to her, the wound from Mira's glaive glinting slightly in the mid-morning sunlight where it hadn't scabbed over yet. She felt weirdly possessive over it.

"Usually? Yes. Not from a Song Blade, though."

Mira and Rumi shared a look - that sounded like a proper noun, just another thing they didn't know. "So," Romance continued. "Did I help with your experiment?"

Mira felt a little curl in her stomach. She knew it was an emotion, but she wasn't sure which one it was. It was uncomfortable, that much she knew. From the silence around her, she wasn't the only one. Rumi rallied first, as usual.

"We hadn't really decided what we were looking for before you forced our hand, Romance."

He shrugged.

"But then? It seems our dear Mira's weapon changed the way you wanted."

"We don't want this," Mira assured him. She really, really meant it. "If it were up to me it would have stayed a glaive."

"And you would have slit my throat?"

"If I had wanted to properly slit your throat, demon, I would have done."

He levelled his gaze at her. It shouldn't have been in any way threatening, him lying vulnerable on his back the way he was, looking back up at her almost through his fringe. Something deep in her thrummed a little anyway, quiet but potent. Zoey broke the moment.

"It at least supports the point that the weapons change when we don't want to hurt you, right? Like Mira said, if she'd wanted to hurt him, she would have done."

"But last night they changed without us wanting them to." Rumi argued, "I really would have preferred to keep the sword that night. At least until we saw what was going on."

"Which we wouldn't have been able to do if you hadn't started using the staff," Mira rebuffed.

"I don't really remember that night, although your Zoey gave me a good enough account. Did the weapons react to me or your honmoon, do you think?"

His voice was so much deeper than all of theirs that even though he was sitting right there it was almost a shock to hear him. They were so accustomed to these conversations just being them. Mira couldn't quite help remembering how that voice had sounded, breathless in whatever overstimulation her gloved hand around his throat had provided him. Luckily she was distracted by Zoey beaming over at him.

"That's a really good point! My instinct is to say you, we decided to not kill you before we even knew there was anything different about the honmoon."

"How kind of you." Romance replied, deadpan. "And the honmoon itself? As terrifying as it usually is, it doesn't usually try to fuck with me quite so actively."

"It's never been like that before." Mira replied, certain. Rumi hummed in agreement.

"You're able to see it, Romance, aren't you?"

"Just like any other demon, sweet thing."

"What does it usually look like?"

He thought for a moment.

"Why do you ask?"

"Because if we're honest the honmoon we saw last night looked nothing like it ever had before. And we're wondering if that's because it's changed since…since Namsan, or whether it's because we're seeing it in a new way."

He huffed in amusement.

"You really have no idea what's going on, do you?" he asked.

"Do you?" Mira batted back, pointedly. He sighed.

"No, but I'm not supposed to be an expert in the honmoon. You are."

This time the girls were quiet. Romance swung his legs around and sat, leaning back on one arm. "That said, you did save me that night so I suppose I owe you something, even if it is just being your sample demon. I can't always see the honmoon, but I can feel it. For example, if I look up there…" he raised his head to look at the ceiling, then squinted like he'd accidentally looked at the sun. "…I can tell that whatever feminine den of paradise you have up there is coated in the damn thing."

"Feminine den of…"

"You mean our apartment?"

"Well I don't know what you ladies do up there, do I?"

"Feminine den of…"

"Keep thinking about it and I'll chop your balls off…Zoey why do you have your notebook out?"

"Feminine den of…"

"Oh god Mira she's writing it down."

"What possible song would that go into?"

"If we could get back to the point at hand, ladies? You know, the one where I'm graciously agreeing to help you even though you sliced up my pretty flesh?"

Rumi and Mira stopped mid-breath in whatever they were going to say. It took Zoey a couple of moments to realise the sound of her pen on the paper was the only sound. She gave them all a toothy grin and slowly put the notebook back under her knee.

"And the pen, Zoey." Rumi reminded her sternly. Zoey pouted but put the pen on the notebook too. Mira really, really wanted to kiss that pout off her face but couldn't so ended up looking at Romance instead. He was shaking his head slightly, which was satisfying. Not even demons could resist that look of Zoey's.

"So," he started. "I can vaguely feel the honmoon even before you bring it to horrific life. In answer to your question."

"Can you feel it now?" Mira asked. He cocked his head like he was listening, caught himself with a short, disbelieving laugh and glanced over at Rumi.

"Still getting used to it." he said softly, which Mira didn't get until she remembered what Rumi had said to him about Gwi-Ma. What must it be like to have that voice (the one she Absolutely Didn't Think About) in your head the whole time and then suddenly have it gone? Perhaps Romance wasn't doing quite so badly at adapting as she wanted to believe.

He frowned a little after a moment of quiet. "I can feel…something. Like a quite buzz that's at the edge of hearing. I don't know if this means anything," he added, shaking himself. "But I don't like it. It's not like anything I've felt before."

"Like last night?" Zoey asked.

"I said I don't remember. Although, if what you described is accurate I can maybe imagine this thing getting loud enough, deep enough to hurt."

"Is it getting worse?"

He looked up at Rumi and Mira thought he looked a little unsettled at the obvious concern on her face.

"I don't think so, no."

"Good," she said, her relief obvious. He looked at her like she was a strangely behaving animal he was observing. "Let us know if it does, ok?"

"Why?" he asked, leaning forward to her with a charming smile. Mira could see how thin a veil it was. "Will you protect me?"

"Yes." Rumi said simple, not backing away and looking him straight in the eye. He didn't quite know what to do with that and just looked at her for a moment.

"A question then," he suddenly blurted out. Mira knew this particular anger and how thinly it spread over discomfort and confusion. She just wasn't used to seeing it so clearly on someone else. "Why did you decide not to kill me? Wouldn't that have been easier?"

"Yes." She grumbled immediately. Rumi grinned.

"Absolutely, it would. But it didn't seem right."

"Why not?"

"Like I said last night, Romance, you were hurting." Zoey insisted. "You might be able to ignore that, but we can't."

"Aren't you supposed to be warriors? Warriors don't back down if their enemy is weak, they take advantage of it."

"We are also supposed to nourish the honmoon." Rumi replied, her voice strong. "And the honmoon is nourished by the noble and pure intentions of humans. And half-demons, apparently…" she added, a little less certain.

"And possibly full demons, I suppose." Romance added, very quietly. Rumi frowned at him.

"What do you mean?"

"Well I can't promise to be a star witness given that I took myself off the moment I realized Abby was really gone, but it very much looked like a certain demon's soul got very involved in whatever it was you three then did. Which ended up creating a new honmoon. Maybe your precious barrier isn't quite as pure and human as it once was."

He'd said the quiet part (or at least one of the quiet parts) out loud. Mira was strangely grateful he'd veered away from wondering if Jinu's soul had anything to do with why their weapons changed. Even if she couldn't help fearing it was going to become the elephant in the room. Coincidences could only happen so often before you had to start admitting they were a pattern.

"And our weapons." Rumi said into the silence. Mira shared a slightly alarmed look at Zoey - after everything she'd just thought in her head was Rumi really about to say this part herself?

"What, um, what about our weapons, Rumi?" Zoey asked after it became clear Rumi wasn't going to elaborate on her own.

"Regardless of what exactly happened, our weapons have always been formed with our souls, our intentions, our commitment to fight. Whether its…whether…whether it was the fact that a crowd or just one person was involved, this time we know that it wasn't just us who had a part in creating them. It's felt different, hadn't it?" she asked, looking at them both slightly pleadingly. "Calling our weapons - it's felt different since Namsan, not just since Romance."

"It has," Zoey mused, "But what are you saying, that we're not in complete control of them anymore?"

"Not necessarily," Rumi replied, getting up to start pacing. Mira always found it adorable when she paced. "I think we just need to pull on different things. Last night was the first time I'd approached a demon, weapon in hand without the intention to kill them."

"Really?" Mira asked. Rumi rolled her eyes at the unspoken meaning of the question.

"Yes, really. I wasn't sure what I was going to do at Namsan but it involved killing him if I had to. All other times my sword was drawn I was intending on using it. "Trust me" she said with a smirk, "That man nearly lost various parts of his anatomy on numerous occasions."

"Nice," Mira said with a grin. It really shouldn't have made her feel that much better. But it did.

"The point is - I approached Romance…sorry. I approached you, Romance, and I wanted to help you."

"I didn't." Mira reminded her. "When I tried to cut his face off I definitely wanted to do just that."

"Ok, that bit I can't quite explain but just now? You said you didn't want to hurt him."

"I didn't."

"And Zoey - did you want to hurt him when you threw your blades at him last night?"

"No. I just wanted it to stop - it wasn't fair we all had to do this again. All four us," she clarified pointedly, levelling a piece of apple at Romance. "I want to say Namsan sucked for literally everybody."

Romance said nothing in reply. Mira recognised the look of someone just watching, gauging a vibe. She let him do it.

"Regardless, we can't go into fights not knowing if our weapons are going to do the same thing." she said, joining Rumi. "If we'd gone into that fight in Daegu with a staff and pair of gloves we'd all be eaten by now."

"So what do we do?" Zoey asked. "How do we test it without using and abusing the fact that we have a pet demon now?"

"Pet?" Romance finally interrupted. He didn't sound completely offended.

"Sorry. I'm just trying to make a point, you know? I know we're supposed to be talking about the honmoon but I can't just forget that Romance is here, now. We're having this conversation literally in front of him. It's just that…we decided to bring him home and…I'm not sure what I'm trying to say."

"I think I do." Mira replied, going over to put a calming hand on her shoulder. She couldn't stand it when Zoey got upset. "And you're right. We decided to bring him home, which suggests that at some point we decided he wasn't just a beast to put down. I guess that has consequences."

"It surely does for me."

"Shut up."

"Shutting up."

"The consequences being," Rumi cut in. "That we need to start trying to do things with Romance, rather than to Romance. Is that kind of what you want to say?"

Zoey looked up at Rumi with those big brown eyes and Mira tried hard not to immediately wrap her up and take her for snuggles.

"Would it be ok if it was?" she asked, voice very small.

Rumi smiled, warm and bright and genuine. Mira watched some of the tension immediately leave Zoey's shoulders.

"Of course. You're doing pretty well at being our moral centre right now, honestly."

"I mean," Romance piped up as Zoey blushed furiously. "I wouldn't necessarily mind if you wanted to do things to me, by the way, it would just be nice if they were more fun."

They all three of them groaned in unison and it, somehow, it felt wonderfully familiar.

"You're a pervert." Mira said to him, mostly out of principal.

"And you three are marvellously co-dependant and self-absorbed." he replied blandly, "I mean how many times did you actually forget I was here during that conversation?"

They all looked at each other again, Rumi being the one to grimace slightly in a 'he got us there' kind of way.

"Ok," she began, turning to him. "I know we literally just said we were going to try and do things with you rather than to you, but I'm about to stretch the principal."

He stilled immediately, although his face still had that bland smile on it. Mira didn't know what it meant that she was learning to read him so fast. At least she wasn't looking at his crotch anymore. Much.

"And what," he started to ask, voice that deep purr that meant he was laying on the charm thick and didn't care who knew it. "Just what are you planning on doing to me now?"

"You said you could hear something in the honmoon. Something that, to us, sounds like whatever corrupted thing was around you last night. I want to see if we can see it."

"And how, prey, are you going to do that?"

It clenched something inside her to hear the fear ill-disguised in his voice.

"Well," Zoey began, "Usually we just…"

A number of things happened in quick succession. Mira watched, almost in slow-motion, as Zoey lifted a foot. It was what they did as a quick, dirty way to spring the honmoon to life, like she had done in Myeongdong.

The thing that had set Romance off screaming loud enough to smash glass.

By the time she had uncrossed her arms in preparation to run to stop her, Rumi had clearly had the same thought and had cried out. Faster than Mira (so, so fast) she flung herself the brief few feet between them and grabbed Zoey bodily by the leg. They both tumbled into a heap on the floor with twin grunts. It wasn't elegant.

"Well," Romance said after a moment. "Apparently we didn't need to put on that whole show, we should have just let you take each other out."

"What happened?" Zoey asked, pushing a thick loop of Rumi's plait out of her face.

"It could have hurt him," Rumi replied.

"Yeah, like it did last night in the market, remember?" Mira added. "If we're going to hurt him, I'd like it to be intentional and not just because we fucked up."

She saw his head snap over to her in her peripheral vision and actively didn't look at him. It was surprisingly difficult. This was getting out of hand.

"My idea wasn't so different," Rumi said soothingly, as Zoey started babbling. Romance was clearly trying not to find her bobbing head and earnest apology charming. Mira knew for a fact that was a futile effort. "What I thought was that, last night, I wasn't doing anything active, really. My voice, the staff - they seemed to illuminate the honmoon but they didn't change it or focus it at all."

She turned to Romance, full, genuine I'm-A-Hero-Trust-Me expression on her face. Grown men had crumbled in the face of such an expression. "I promise you on my soul that I don't want to hurt you, Romance, but if I can see the honmoon the same way, maybe we can make sure this doesn't come for you again."

Mira watched Romance swallow a few times before speaking. Grown. Men.

"And you wish to do this by…singing at me?"

Rumi nodded. "Sing at me? The thing that you lot do to weaponize the honmoon against us and generally pummel us into dust?"

"All I can give you is my word, Romance."

"And if I say no?"

There was a potent silence.

"This is as much for you as us." Mira finally said, lamely. The smile he gave her had no joy in it.

"So saying 'no' isn't an option, then? Good to know."

"We'll make sure it doesn't hurt you, Romance." Zoey tried.

"It doesn't matter if it makes me feel like a king in his harem - I don't have a choice."

The bitterness in his voice felt like bile in Mira's own throat.

"I know." Zoey said softly. He paused from where he had been getting up.

"You do?" he pressed, coldly. Before Mira could chastise him Zoey looked up at him, all sweetness gone and replaced by irritation.

"Yes, Romance, I do. In a very different way, but I do. People can give you everything you want, shower you with whatever gifts you could possibly desire but you can always tell when they're doing it to make themselves feel better about the fact that they've just made a bunch of decisions for you and there's nothing you can do about it."

Mira had a sudden but vivid memory of Zoey opening a parcel at the temple, taking a second to read the card and then throwing the parcel unopened into the lake outside the window. It had been a new iPad. Her mother had just decided it was best for Zoey to stay with her father in Korea whilst she took her other siblings home to America. The card had said that she'd hoped that Zoey would enjoy it with all the free time she'd now have.

"Am I supposed to care that there's clearly a story there?" Romance asked, breaking Mira out of her moment and making her want to instantly punch him. Rumi was clearly thinking the same thing the way her fists clenched. The pained, grim little smile Zoey allowed herself before turning to him again made Mira want to do it slowly.

"No, you're not. But here we are. I'll stay near you, ok? I'll stay near you and if anything starts happening with the honmoon I'll try and, oh I don't know - move it away or get in front of you or something."

"Why would you do that?"

"Because I'm trying to do the right thing! And it's your right to make that difficult for me but it's also my right to ignore you and do it anyway. Now, I suggest getting to the middle of the room - we don't know what this is going to do."

Whatever Romance was about to say in response was covered by Zoey's customary chivvying, arranging first him and then Mira and Rumi towards the centre of the room. They let her move him, a similar look on their faces - Zoey spent so much time flitting around it was easy to forget that she was just as strong as they were. If not more so. Mira loved being reminded, coupled with that heady realization that this incredible person had chosen her to spend time with, to open up to. From Rumi's affectionate little smile when she caught her eye, she was thinking the same thing.

Romance ended up sitting cross-legged on the floor, Rumi sitting facing him a little way away. They weren't within touching distance, unlike Zoey, who had crouched behind him with her legs almost cradling his hips. He was clearly quite alarmed by her closeness, enough that he'd only made a couple of jibes about it, but Mira couldn't help seeing through it to the tightness of his shoulders, white of his knuckles. She couldn't get his 'boogie-men' comment out of her head - she sure as hell wouldn't be put in this position in front of a demon. She had set herself a little way away to the side - within striking distance if she needed to. Her arms were crossed and her legs wide, Romance had made a slightly shaky comment about how he didn't know if she looked more like a bodyguard or a cult goon.

As Rumi cleared her throat and started to calm herself Mira could see his chest rising and falling with his breathing. So could Zoey, who leant in a little to almost rest her chin on his shoulder.

"I know it's a hard ask," she whispered, so quiet Mira had to strain to hear. "But try and relax."

"Relax?" Romance asked back, just as quiet. When he tilted his head back to do so Mira could see the shadow of the wound on his neck. It was very dark against his skin. "Forgive me if it's not relaxing being so close to these hands that can, in a second, conjure blades to cut my throat with."

Zoey frowned a little and, to Mira's slight horror, leaned in so their cheeks must have been touching.

"Well what about me being so close to this mouth which can, in a second, get filled with sharp pointy teeth and rip my throat out?"

She slowly put a hand on his arm and squeezed. "Look, I'm not about to argue that you are the most helpless one in this room, but we are all taking chances here."

She leant back so Mira could see Romance's face again. It was pensive.

That thoughtfulness turned to alarm as Rumi began humming and he instinctively covered Zoey's hand with his own. Mira thought she heard him curse under his breath, but then Rumi began to sing and she forgot to concentrate on anything else.

Usually Rumi closed her eyes when she was singing, but she hadn't this time. She cast her pale brown eyes over Romance, like she was taking in every inch of him. He shifted back against Zoey slightly. Her hands came up off her lap and Mira could feel the little tug of the honmoon before Rumi's fingers curled. It was breathtaking watching her do this, every time - say what Mira could about Celine's education (and she had a lot to say, these days), but Rumi had the most fine-control over the honmoon out of all of them by far. Mira could literally see the echoed outlines of her sword forming from the honmoon around her, not yet solid. Rumi held it there, half formed, fingers delicate but strong shifting slightly in front of her like she was feeling out the honmoon as she called it. The faded images of the sword, like the after-image on the back of your eyelids when you've just looked at the sun, morphed, moving back and forth between the curved blade and something thinner, longer. Mira felt her own mind cast back to the night before, Romance's awful howls of pain, the way he'd clawed at raw concrete just to try and rid himself of it. Her heart pulsed with the tight, cloying feeling she associated with frustrated compassion and almost felt like she saw it reflecting in the thin strands.

As the staff, now fully formed, came to land heavy in Rumi's hands, she opened up her throat and let her voice run strong. She was singing the acoustic, slowed down version of Golden and it was somehow even more beautiful than the last time Mira heard it. Just when she was getting used to it, the honmoon split. Or exploded, or shattered. It was like someone had just moved a multi-faceted diamond into a shaft of sunlight, the fracturing was violent and serene at the same time, silent when it felt like it should make the sound of a beach of pebbles pulled by the tide, sparkling, on the shore. If Romance made a sound in surprise, Mira didn't hear it over her own. His mouth was open, but so was Zoey's - they were all but in each other's arms at this point.

Blinking to try and focus, she assessed what she could see. The pearlescent, ever shimmering lines of the honmoon in their multitudes covered the world around them without obscuring her vision of it. It looked superimposed and yet, somehow, natural - more natural than the old one ever had. Closer to Romance she saw it darken, but that on its own didn't fill her with unease. What did was the sudden, fleeting vibrations along the strands around his head. She couldn't tell if they were visual or audible or both, but they were the same light/dark, loud/quiet nightmare of last night in minuscule format and made something like nausea rise in her gut. She knew that feeling, had honed it on multiple terrifying nights on the tops of haunted hills in graveyards during training. Not all dark things in this world were wrong, some were natural extensions and trappings of life. Not this. This was as unnatural as it came.

Rumi's light couldn't reach it. Mira could see her trying, her voice fluctuating like light on water along the strands, but it stopped about a foot from him, like whatever was creating those horrible little glitches in the stream was keeping her from him. She wasn't the only one beginning to notice - Romance was still looking around at it like he was in a dream, but she could see Zoey's eyes darting around her, that beautiful brain connecting dots that Mira never even saw to begin with.

"Rumi," Zoey eventually whispered. Rumi's voice lulled to a soft piano, but the power was still there. She gently tilted her head in question. "Can you push any harder? Is it stopping you?"

Rumi nodded, but her brow furrowed a little in concentration. The light pulsed, stronger now and Mira could see the frenzied little pockets of corruption ignite like a silent row of cannons as she pushed forward. Romance made a little upset sound and reached up towards her.

"Wait…"

It was too late. Rumi's voice crested on a high note and the light surged through, pushing into Romance's chest. It made his back arch and his mouth open in a gasp, but it didn't seem to hurt him. Instead a ripple of sound, something lower than light seemed to emanate from him, from the impact of Rumi's light into him, flowing through the honmoon. Instinctively Mira and Zoey reached out for it and it hit them all at the same time.

Shame. Shame so deep it ached in her teeth and curled her lips up in a snarl. Guilt and resignation and resentment - she was angry enough to gnash her teeth and felt helpless, so helpless. The back of her neck was hot with humiliation, bent as it was over the floor, prostrate against matting - the smell of the wood oil so familiar - she'd been here so many damn times. There was a voice - male and dark and so disappointed. So very, very disappointed. It wasn't her father, Mira realized, utterly disorientated. She knew that tone well enough to make tears spring at her eyes, rage filled for all that she thought she'd stopped looking for his approval. But it wasn't his voice. It wasn't his voice she heard and it wasn't her mother's voice that she didn't - the absence of that voice almost as cutting as the presence of the other. Mother wasn't saying anything. She always tried to say something, to protect her - clearly Mira had finally done that one thing too many to make her not worth protecting. Only it wasn't her, was it? Had this happened? She couldn't remember, only she could and this was it, but it wasn't her father's voice so…

Dimly, from very far away, Mira heard a voice cry out. She heard it like you finally hear the alarm clock when you wake up - when you realize that all the other sounds you were hearing were just in your dream and that this was what real sound felt like.

The training room came back into focus in a rush and she was breathless, looking around for Rumi and Zoey. Rumi looked in the same state she was herself, staff listless in her lap, voice quavering but still singing. Zoey was bodily covering Romance, her arms out in front of her and the vestiges of a wave of motion sending the honmoon back out towards Rumi. It had been her voice, Mira realized, that she had heard. Romance was curled over himself, hands covering his head. She could see a sliver of his face. It was dumbstruck, like whatever was inside him had knocked him sideways as it echoed out to them all. She watched with a slow sense of dread as he seemed to come back to himself, rage flooding into the vacuum of emotion to bring glints of amber to his eyes, a shadow under skin and a sharp hint of fang. She couldn't move.

He uncurled slowly, Zoey manoeuvring herself to allow him to whilst still protecting him. Rumi wasn't pushing the honmoon towards him anymore, looking around and slowing down the melody even further like she was trying to soothe the honmoon. Mira didn't realize what Romance was going to do until he opened his mouth.

His voice was silk and sin next to Rumi's, hitting the chorus with her in perfect harmony. Like a professional he didn't try to compete, letting his light tenor embellish like he was the icing to Rumi's cake, the sparkle to her spotlight. The honmoon rippled like it was yearning and Rumi's eyes grew wide as she snapped back to look at him. His lip was curled, a violent juxtaposition to his voice - however disarming and sweet it sounded it looked like he was hurling it at her like a weapon. Rumi levelled her gaze at him and added a thread of chest voice, hardening her tone. He matched her, growing in volume until he all but spat a note at her that travelled up the honmoon. Mira could damn well see it, splitting the threads into something jagged, darker and pinker and setting off every trained alarm bell she had. The light intensified with the addition of whatever he'd put in the honmoon, something fizzing and full of potential arching up Mira's spine as she watched that light race up through Rumi's more gentle glow and hit Rumi in her own chest.

There was no rush of emotion this time, but Mira watched in awe as Rumi's patterns blazed like Romance had lit a candle inside her, rushing like a wave outwards and then coalescing in the shock of amber light in one eye and the dissolving of her beautiful voice into a growl akin to a threatened cat. With a shocked snarl she stopped singing and the two lights dissipated as one, the honmoon dropping out of seeing and hearing and feeling in a wrench that nearly took Mira off her feet. She was breathless, hands on her knees and looking at her girls to check them. And Romance. Zoey was the first to ask.

"Is everyone all right?"

She put her hands on Romance's face and he snatched himself away from her, turning on Rumi.

"How dare you…"

"I didn't mean to, Romance, I'm so sorry."

"You think you can just…"

"I promise I didn't mean to - I didn't even know I could. I promise." Rumi added, the staff fading into the glinting floor as she discarded it, crawling towards him. "I would never do that to anyone. Whatever that was, it was yours and we had no right…god Romance I swear I didn't know I could."

He looked at her, really looked at her. She was almost in tears and Mira's heart bled for her.

"Think about it, Romance." she said, softly. "If anyone here knows about the sanctity of our heart's secrets, it's going to be Rumi. If it helps, I didn't know we could do that either."

"Me neither," Zoey added, sounding guilt-stricken. "If I'd had any idea that was going to happen..."

"You what, wouldn't have done it?"

"Zoey's the one who broke it's hold, Romance." Mira warned, coming closer. "She pulled us all out of it."

He sat back a little on his haunches and took a breath.

"She did." he acknowledged softly. "She did."

He made that little huffing noise that Mira was beginning to associate with him being a little shit in an attempt to protect himself. "So when are you going to ask?"

"We're not." She replied immediately, knowing what he meant. She didn't care if the other two looked surprised or not. His eyes were wide and wary when she met them. "We're not going to ask - it's none of our damn business."

"Honestly I didn't even really understand anything of what was going on." Zoey said beside them, but Mira didn't look away from Romance's face. She knew. Maybe only the sketchy details but enough to know the gist. He knew she would and it suddenly mattered to her that he saw her really see him. So she kept his gaze until he broke it, looked up at her a few more times before he nodded, looking suddenly very tired.

"I think I'd like to be alone for a moment now." he said finally.

"Of course." Rumi said, sounding as relieved as Mira felt that they weren't all going to just be stuck here like a confused tableau for the rest of time.

"Do you need a hand getting there?" Zoey asked softly as Mira began to look away. Rumi joined her and they stood quietly as Zoey somehow persuaded Romance to let her put one of his arms over her shoulders and walk him to one of the side rooms, informing him that she would be bringing water and that he was going to drink some because he looked like shit. When Derpy appeared from the stairwell and slowly loped towards the open door whilst Zoey was popping to the kitchen, Mira felt Rumi's hand slip into her own. The huge blue cat was silent as it disappeared into the dark of the side room and Mira turned and wrapped her arm around Rumi's neck, pulling her close.

"We keep hurting him." Rumi said into her chest, muffled.

"Yeah," Mira agreed simply. "But at least we're trying not to. That has to mean something."

"You've changed your tune."

"Every moment he's here I feel like I know less."

"Yeah," Rumi agreed with a heartfelt sigh. "Mira, why the hell would I want to be able to see the depths of someone's heart? Because that's what that was, wasn't it? It sure as hell wasn't what he was feeling right now. Why do I get the feeling it was from before he made the deal with Gwi-Ma?"

"I think," Mira started, feeling oddly reluctant to explain fully. It didn't feel like her story to tell. "I think it was a long time ago. He mentioned he'd had some issues with his family."

"Oh? He told you that?"

"Yeah," Mira replied, feeling very observed.

"That's not something you just mention in passing."

"Yeah, well…"

She didn't know what to say. Rumi, because she was forgiving and ever-generous, shook her head a little and pressed a little kiss to the underside of Mira's jaw to punctuate the end of her questioning.

"It still doesn't explain why I would want to be able to see that."

"I know there have been times I would have killed to see that far into your heart."

Rumi's face dropped and Mira felt that familiar falling feeling again looking into her eyes. She wasn't above wielding her feelings for Rumi like a weapon sometimes but could still never quite shake the feeling that this would be the time she found out Rumi didn't mean it. Only Rumi was shaking her head and wrapping her arms around Mira, pressing butterfly kisses to her face.

"You knew what was in my heart, Mira. I could never hide that from you. And it made all the rest feel like it didn't matter. I know it did, I know that so well now, but you were never wrong when you thought you saw it. I love you." she added firmly, when Mira took a breath to speak. "And from the moment you first wondered if I did, I can promise you I already had for far longer than either of us would have been comfortable with."

Mira couldn't stop the smile from blooming on her face - she would have better luck trying to stop the tide coming in. She threw a quick glance over her shoulder to check that Romance was still out of sight and then pressed her lips to Rumi's. Rumi's arms tightened around her and Mira let herself just kiss her, relaxed and unhurried, a balm against all the uncertainty and horrible cold that Romance's memories had left in her. She had this, she reminded herself, a shiver of warmth filling that chill as Rumi's tongue danced, daring, into her mouth. They had each other.

Rarely had she felt so grateful.

Chapter Text

Zoey had volunteered to take watch again that evening - she needed time to think. Romance had sulked in one of the supply rooms off the training area for most of the day, emerging only when Zoey pounded on the door informing him they'd brought him food. He pointedly hadn't looked at her, just extended a long, pale arm out of the gloom and delicately taken the food bag from her hand whilst politely informing her that, whilst he appreciated the gesture, next time he would prefer bokkeumbap*. She still felt so guilty over earlier she didn't even argue.

After Rumi had managed to pull the staff from the honmoon rather than her sword, she had tried to help Mira and Zoey do the same. It was hard, training for it without Romance in front of them. Zoey had always found the more esoteric parts of being a Hunter more difficult anyway - Celine had given up on teaching her to meditate traditionally within about a week of her being at the temple and set her at repetitive tasks to focus her mind instead. Trying to control her thoughts and feelings enough to pull out specific things from the honmoon felt impossible. Mira, at least, was also finding it difficult, although this she attributed to finding it all but impossible to quench her distrust of demons in general. Romance really hadn't helped himself by attacking her. She wondered if that was part of his plan. She knew darn well she wouldn't be able to stand being 'kept' in this way.

Mira and Rumi were still loathe to leave her down here, though. Zoey rather thought Rumi was looking for a full Huntrix-three-body snuggle. Zoey would have loved that as well, but there was still a part of her deeply unsettled and she wasn't sure why. She didn't know if it was what had happened with Romance - seeing and feeling what had to have been one of his worst moments - or whether it was something else, something deeper and more troubling. She hadn't been able to bring her weapon at all - her blades were about as far from a net as it was possible to be - she had no idea where to begin. What if she was the only one of them who wasn't able to? What if Mira and Rumi found a way, like they always did, and she was the only one left behind? And why was that making her angry with Rumi?

This was a problem she wanted to untangle, because it made no sense that Rumi's seeming ease in manipulating the honmoon would make Zoey angry with her. She wondered if it came back to Romance again, to Rumi's fervent apology to him afterwards, like she still felt like she had to hide similar parts of herself, even after Namsan. Zoey knew it was unfair, but the spike of irritation she felt in her when she thought about it suggested that this was closer to the mark. For some reason she found herself thinking about the song that she and Rumi had sung that night, the one that Zoey hadn't known the words to. Until, that is, she'd let Rumi in, given over everything she felt was inside her and trusted Rumi not only to be able to handle it, but to treat it gently. She didn't know why this memory had come up but was practiced enough in letting her brain flit around until it found the core of things that she trusted it, let it play out. There was something in the way Rumi had looked so scared of her when she thought Zoey was going to ask who'd she'd sung it with.

A sudden lump caught in her throat as the heart of it all appeared before her. She didn't believe Rumi would do the same with her. She couldn't imagine Rumi letting herself go, giving herself over to Zoey. For Zoey it had felt like it was the most natural thing in the world. She leant her head back against the glass of the windows - the void between them that had sprung up before the awards lurked in the back of her mind. She didn't want a gap between them, but she didn't know what to do. She knew it wasn't Rumi's fault, but was she going to have to ignore her own feelings again? It had taken Mira at her side to express how she had felt to Rumi that one time Rumi had promised to go to the spa with them - she'd been so proud of that moment until it transpired that Rumi was all but lying by omission through the whole thing. A tiny thread of anger warmed the sorrow weighing on her. That wasn't fair, was it?

Romance broke her from her brooding, a fact that made her smile a little. He looked at her quizzically from across the room. She shook her head.

"Don't worry - I just realised that we've both been sulking at the same time. I'm not quite sure why I found it funny to be honest."

"You, my dear? Sulking?" he asked, mocking but softly. "I cannot imagine such a thing."

"Oh it happens," she responded, playing up to his mock surprise. He made his way towards her and she felt the absence of her fear almost as keenly as if it had actually been there. So she patted the floor next to her. "I can get into a real big sulk if I want."

"And there was I thinking you were a woman of action, sweeping in to save very silly men from themselves when she really had no reason to at all."

She observed him as he sat down, now very studiously not looking at her.

"Was that a 'thank you'?" she probed. He recoiled in mock horror.

"Ugh, absolutely not, my dear. Gratitude is for the poor and unrefined."

That made her chuckle disbelievingly, happy when he smiled a little as well.

"You're ridiculous."

"Says the girl currently writing demonic theory in a notebook covered in rainbow sparkles."

"…but it has a baby goat on, you see? The baby goat has horns, like a demon and demons live in Hell and also if the light in Hell is anything like what surrounded He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named then I imagine it sort of sparkles but, like, scary sparkles and…"

She nattered on, not really knowing what was coming out of her mouth but noticing that he'd stopped trying to interrupt her and now was just leaning his delicate chin on his hand, watching her with a slightly bemused smile.

"I've met riddle-demons less convoluted than you." he said, finally, when she took a breath. "Honestly, you should give it a try."

"Riddle-demons? There are riddle-demons? Wait, there are different types of demon? I thought we were the only ones who classified them. You."

"Well, what do you think?"

"I thought each one was kind of, unique, you know, like they reflected whoever they were as a human, before they made a deal."

"Or were taken, you surely know that not all demons made a deal."

"Yes of course," Zoe replied seriously. "The less powerful ones, right? Rumi said it was something about Gwi-Ma not having got inside them so far so he had less control over what they looked like and how much of themselves there was left."

"Or he just eats their souls and those slavering beasts with half a brain are all that is left of a human who's soulless?"

"Apart from the fact that there are historical accounts of people whose souls were taken but their bodies remained on earth and, through various quests that I can't quite remember but I think involve monks, got reunited with their souls and were better again."

"Well well, you did listen at school. Colour me surprised."

Zoey giggled.

"I really didn't - the only person I was good at learning from was Rumi."

"Oh? Does she have a particularly effective teaching style?"

Zoey went to answer but then remembered exactly why Rumi's lessons were so effective - a toy strapped to Zoey's thigh just where it would make her crazy but wouldn't take her over the edge and Rumi insisting she recite the Hunter's Code three times perfectly or she'd leave her like that. Hard, sneaky hands pulling her into an alcove and filthy lips whispering precisely what getting a perfect score on the next theory test would mean, hand dipping between Zoey's thighs to press hard enough Rumi's other hand came up instinctively to catch Zoey's whimper in her palm.

"Um," she started, coughing slightly. "She uh, had a unique reward system."

Romance's eyebrows raised to his hairline but, classy thing he was, he simply reached over and plucked at a grape.

"Does she now?" he murmured.

"So?" Zoey asked, after an awkward moment. "You were saying there were different types of demons?"

"Well, sort of. The King has transformed enough demons clearly he got bored. Or, perhaps, at the beginning he needed different classes of soldier for whatever war he was waging or internal regime he was setting up."

"You don't know?"

"Darling please, I'm not that old."

The unasked question hung between them - Zoey wanted to ask so badly she actually pressed her lips together and held them there with her teeth. He saw her pained expression and laughed. But said nothing. Zoey took a deep breath, showing him exactly how contained and polite she was being.

"Do you want more than grapes?" she asked finally, pulling out her phone as it dinged. "I ordered some food in and got a little more in case you were hungry. They'll be here in a few minutes."

"That was very…kind of you." Romance replied, sounding somewhat pained. "What is it this time?"

"Oh definitely Korean food - I take orders very well you know."

His expression darkened with a smirk the moment the words came out of her mouth. She closed her eyes and braced herself.

"Ok, I walked into that one - get it over and done with."

He didn't say anything for a moment and Zoey had just begun to hope he wasn't going to take the bait before she felt a hand gently caressing her own, one finger and thumb encircling her wrist with enough potential firmness she knew damn well he could hold her down that way. A little thrill ran through her.

He did nothing, however, other than squeeze for a breathless moment before letting go, chuckling.

"I'm far too classy to take such a low serve, darling. Although I will file that away for future reference."

Zoey groaned, but there was something strangely platonic about it. When was the last time she'd just hung out with a man without it being some kind of date situation? Who wasn't Bobby? Probably America. Her phone dinged again - five minutes away. Romance was grabbing another grape, throwing it gracefully into his mouth.

"Can I ask something?"

He looked over with an arched eyebrow, but didn't say anything. Zoey took this as permission. "Can we call you anything? Other than Romance, I mean. That can't be your real name."

"It is my name." Romance replied after a moment.

"Yeah, but I mean your actual name, your chosen name. The name your mother gave you!" Zoey finished, slightly exasperated at his blank look. He cocked his head at her, eyes pensive all of a sudden.

"The name my mother gave me…" he repeated thoughtfully. Oh crap, Zoey suddenly thought, the hot/chill of the humiliation she'd felt from him rising in her again. Maybe that wasn't the best way to put it. "I've never thought about it that way before." Romance continued. "I think that I should like to be called Romance, then."

"Oh?" she asked, still slightly off-kilter. "Really? I mean, isn't that the name Gwi-Ma gave you?"

Romance smiled sadly, looking down and shaking his head.

"Gwi-Ma didn't give me that name, sweet thing. Jinu did."

Jinu's name was a rare enough occurrence in their household that it was almost shocking to hear it said out loud. Zoey felt herself go still.

"He…he did?"

Romance smiled again, warmer this time.

"Yes he did." He affirmed, looking over at her with a cheeky expression. "And that man understood me a hell of a lot better than my mother ever did. So. Romance it is, if you don't mind."

Zoey found herself smiling back, something genuine in his face at the choice he'd just made.

"Well," she said. "That's really awesome. And if you ever want to be called anything else, you just let us know, ok? We'll call you whatever you want."

That bemused smile spread over his face again, but she thought she saw warmth in his eyes.

"You are a strange little thing, aren't you?"

"Yup. But…." she replied, holding onto the word as she watched the GPS on her driver arrive at the door. "I'm a strange little thing who's going to provide you food."

"Oh, well then. How could I possibly resist?"

She smiled at him again and pushed up, trotting over to the door of the stairwell. It was instinct to check Romance wasn't looking before she punched in the code to leave the room, but she didn't want to care. She probably should.

She met the porter at the door (this wasn't the sort of apartment block that allowed delivery drivers up) and gave him a bright smile as he came in and placed the bag on the hall table for her. He looked tired, but she wasn't surprised at that - quite a few members of staff from this building had ended up victims of Gwi-Ma and the Saja Boys, he was probably working double shifts. Still, they should really move up their recruitment drive- he looked wrecked. She patted him jovially on the shoulder and made some random small talk. They'd set up a monthly transfer for tips and kept it generous, so she offered him a sweet instead. He accepted it with a smile.

Zoey took the opportunity, as she picked the bag up, to open it and stick her face in, inhaling the wondrous scents. Insomnia always brought out her sweet tooth - Romance might be getting kimchi bokkeumbap but she was all doughnuts, baby and ready to demolish them. Hearing the door close behind her and not really caring if the porter saw (she was publicly known for her love of food, it was a standard maknae* trait). Humming to herself, she punched in the code for the door downstairs and shimmied through it. The downstairs floor also held their studios, so no one had batted an eyelid at the extra security. The lights of the city, shining through the tall windows at the bottom of the stairwell, lit her way down and she didn't bother turning the overhead light on - she very rarely did. She knew her way around her well enough, after all, and was equally as well practised jogging down these stairs juggling food bags.

She barely made it halfway down before something slammed into her back, dull pain chased swiftly by the sharp bloom of agony in her side, something hot about it immediately that said that skin was broken. She fell, whatever had slammed into her almost riding her down the stairs. Her knees and shins slammed into the edges of the steps and she ended in a heap at the bottom, the weight immediately leaving her, pushing off her body so her face ground into the hard wood of the floor.

She was disorientated, pain flooding the parts of her that needed to think logically. Distantly she could hear herself moaning, her own fists large in her vision as she tried to remember how to make her body move. The hot pain was becoming slick at her side and she knew, if she looked, she would be bleeding. Lightly she reached down, feeling achingly slow and felt four tears in her sweatshirt, pain flaring as she tried to put her fingers through them. Something had torn through her and, even in her pain-laced fog of brain, she knew it had been talons. The crumpled bag, filled with the fried rice and doughnuts she'd ordered, sent seemingly jagged shadows across the shadows from where it had fallen, ruined. For some reason it was that, more than the pain, that made her want to cry. She'd been looking forward to sharing it with him.

Voices merged in the background - surprise and anger and desperation in them. She recognised the tone of Romance, but there was another voice there - male, darker, deeper and thrumming with power that bloomed blood red and petrol in her head. Another demon, then. Which meant she had to get up. Get up, she willed herself. Get up, get up, get up.

There was some sort of argument going on, she thought, her hearing hazy as she grit her teeth fiercely and pushed up. The wound on her side ached, a depth of hurt to what was clearly a slashing wound that meant she really needed to see someone about it and fast. All she could think about was Romance, about the fact that he was in danger - he was still so weak and it didn't matter that he was a demon. At all, all of a sudden. He was weak and in danger and it was her job! It was her damn job.

She dragged herself up to her feet by force of will and took a number of deep breaths as she willed her feet to move. She opened herself to the pain, refused to let it claim her - forced her body to accept it and not flinch from it. She reached her hand out but hit the wall in a drunken slam, all but clambering to the open door. In the city-lit expanse of room, it took a moment for her eyes to adjust.

There was a demon with Romance, somehow even slighter, with their hands raised and clenched into his shirt, pulling him towards them. She couldn't hear what they were saying over the pounding of her heart but her eyes took in the shape of this new demon - clothes that matched Romance's - setting off a deep fear-ridden memory of lust and despair that manifested in a shudder that nearly took her off her feet. She saw Romance's head tilt towards her, the low glare of the city lights illuminating the horror that crept onto his face. The other demon turned, almost too fast, like a snake about to strike. She saw glinting fangs, soft mop of hair and big, big eyes that narrowed at her as he let Romance go and turned to start stalking towards her. His claws made his fingers all seem too long as they hung at his side and sense-memory of watching those hands draw sensually over his face dragged arousal up from her core to lodge like terror in her throat.

Baby.

Romance tried impotently to reach for him at the same moment that Baby launched himself at her and she, to her great surprise, was ready for him. His weight was enough to spring off, hooking an arm over his shoulders and spinning to slam a knee into his side. He followed her, nearly as fast. He was probably as accustomed to fighting as the smaller combatant as she was, she thought grimly. Relentless, he was all close quarters and it was all she could do to wriggle out of the the reach of those claws of his. As she feinted, leaping over him with a pained cry only to throw her head back to avoid a clawed swipe at her face, she realised that those claws were drenched in blood. Hers.

Dimly, she registered that Romance was shouting at them both, but she didn't have enough space in her brain to figure out what he was saying. She wasn't strong enough, she'd thought before that she wasn't strong enough and he was so angry and she couldn't find a moment to…

No.

She was a damn Hunter and yes, perhaps she was the ranged fighter for the most part but that didn't mean that she wasn't a demon herself to fight hand-to-hand. The confidence, hard-won, radiated from her gut and shifted her weight to ground through the soles on her feet, solid against the matting of the training room. Fear alone would not knock her off her stance.

His face was barely a foot away from hers and some dark part of her thrummed at the close contact - she had always loved hand-to-hand. It would have helped even more if Baby was angry enough to make mistakes, but there was a hard, cold determination in his gaze that dashed any hopes she had that he was like Romance had been. Why wasn't he like Romance had been?

She took her moment when he overreached slightly, ducking under his arm. Her daggers slashed at his chest, coming naturally to her hands and filling her with relief and grief and fear all at once. She ended up flipping over him, slamming her knees into his back and all but grinding him face first into the floor. Romance called her name, but it was too late and he should have known it. She built all of her fear and rage into her chest, threw her head back and pushed it out from her mouth in a torrent of sound, finding a note, any note and opening her throat. This was no Broadway belt, or Kpop bell-chime - this was a full pansori* howl at the world, half song and half wail. She felt it ignite the honmoon around her, rippling upwards and outwards. Baby growled his frustration under her knees, rearing up so she was forced to leap away, the pain of the wound on her side now faint enough she knew she didn't have much time before her body shut down to heal it. She didn't care. Nor did she care that he was up and pacing around her, waiting for his next chance. She didn't need new ways to see the honmoon to have felt those ripples soar upwards and sink into opening blooms of violet and fuchsia, their waking a brightness that ricocheted back down the honmoon to settle, like home, in her chest. Now all she needed to do was hold out until her girls got here.

A shape moved between her and Baby. She didn't know what it meant that Romance was facing Baby and letting her see his back.

"Stop!" he shouted, his arms out. "This isn't what you think, it's more complicated, you…"

"How is it more complicated, you stupid shit?" Baby snarled. "They have you locked in here, feeding you like a damn dog and you're lapping it up."

"They saved me, you little cunt." Romance bit back.

"So you're their bitch now?"

"You know damn well that was a clarion cry," Romance begged, ignoring the question. "We have maybe seconds before the full cohort of Hunters are here and you've already bled one of them. Let's go, ok? Let's just go."

He was walking towards Baby with his hands out, placating, pleading. Zoey didn't trust it for a moment and she was right not to - Baby caught her eye over Romance's shoulder and threw himself forward, shoving Romance out of the way. Romance didn't stand a chance, weakened as he was. He hit the ground a good ten feet away and Baby was on her again. She let her blades drop and waited until he was inches away, reaching up to catch his wrists in the sturdy corner between thumb and forefinger, forcing his arms up as she ducked, throwing her head forward and catching him with full force on the chin. He recoiled and she used the moment to rally, delivering a full low hook to his stomach. Any normal day of the week it would have dropped him there and then, but her right-hand side was the one that he'd slashed and it didn't have the force she wanted.

It didn't matter. He let out an 'oof' of pain, but only staggered so far as to gain his footing again. Only before he could come for her again there was a colossal crashing sound from where the floor to ceiling windows looked out on the balcony. She and Baby leapt back from each other, his big amber eyes on hers before sliding over to whatever was happening.

What was happening was that Rumi and Mira had arrived.

It looked like Mira had fully smashed her way through one window, glaive bright and beautiful in her hands. She made a three-point landing on the training room floor, bowing her head to keep it out of the way of Rumi, who catapulted in behind her, sword raised high by her face and eyes deadly, honed on Baby like he was just a target at the training ranch. They collided and Zoey's knees gave way, despite herself. Rarely had she been so glad to see them.

"No, wait. Please don't!"

Romance knew he had no hope of affecting the situation. He hadn't bothered to get up, or maybe he couldn't, Zoey thought dimly, as Rumi engaged with Baby with a shout of rage. Suddenly Mira was next to her, hands going to her side and a quiet, sincere curse falling from her lips.

"Mira, I'm…"

"Shut up."

Zoey watched with a strange detachment as Mira ripped her oversized t-shirt so it barely covered her breasts, somehow gently lifting Zoey's ruined hoodie so she could start wrapping the wound. "Fuck, Zoey. This is going to leave a scar."

"I don't care!" Zoey said, probably quieter than she wanted to. "I don't want…where's Rumi…"

Baby had stopped his offensive and now, to his credit, was trying his best to retreat. He had had a number of opportunities to get to the now broken window, though, what with Mira at Zoey's side, but he didn't take one. Zoey didn't understand why until he launched himself at Romance, scooping him into an arm and throwing him over one shoulder. Romance yelped and Rumi roared in frustration as the two demons hurtled towards the open air and city beyond. Baby had just got to the balcony when Romance shouted again, twisting in Baby's grip until he fell unceremoniously off his shoulder.

"I can't!" He yelled, Rumi slowing her approach from a targeted bullet to a slow stalk. Fuck, but she was beautiful in battle, Zoey thought dimly as Mira tightened the makeshift bandage around her middle. "You know I can't - it's out there and they freed me from it. Baby!" he cried again, smacking Baby's grabbing hands away. "I won't."

Baby snarled, a look of pure disdain on his devastatingly pretty face. He looked up to where Rumi was approaching him and sneered, a grim twist to his mouth.

"Fine." he spat. He spun to run to the balcony, spoiled only by the briefest of hesitations as he looked at Romance one last time. Was it just Zoey being slightly delirious or had she seen reluctance, perhaps even sorrow in his face?

Definitely delirium, she thought, as Rumi launched herself forward and Baby rolled with it, ducking out of her way with a chuckle forced through gritted teeth.

"Catch me, bitch." He taunted, before hurling himself backwards and off the edge of the balcony. Rumi swore, running to the edge.

"Shit. Well apparently he can still fly, we have to go, now."

"Zoey's not going anywhere." Mira argued. Zoey shook her head, using Mira as a sprag to help herself up.

"I'm alright. You bandaged me up - we can't let him get away."

"Please…"

They paused as they gathered at the balcony door. Romance was on the floor, pushing himself up on wobbly legs. "Please don't kill him."

"The fuck are you talking about!?" Mira retorted, arm protectively over Zoey. "He fucking came for us…"

"He came for me!" Romance shouted back. Shock covered his face the moment the words left his mouth, something akin to wonder on his face. "He came for me." he repeated, sounding like he hardly believed it himself. The girls shared a look and Zoey rolled her shoulders. The pain was still distant, but the make-shift bandage Mira had tied around her was tight and honestly felt like it was holding her together. Baby was dangerous - it was her job as hunter to stop him. She could put up with a little pain for that. She watched as they all took a breath and turned towards the open door. "Wait…"

Romance grabbed onto her arm and she felt Mira instantly between them. Romance's fingers were hard against her arm but she could see Mira's just as tight on his, white where the fingertips dug in.

"Don't touch her."

"I'm not…please just listen to me, he doesn't…"

He deflated, looking away from them towards Rumi, who was watching them with her sword at her side. "Please don't kill him."

There was something cold and frightening in Rumi's face, even as a flash of remorse flickered across it. Suddenly Zoey could believe Romance's talk of them being a demon's worst nightmare. It didn't feel as good as it should.

"You know we can't promise that, Romance." Rumi said quietly. Softly, but there was a finality in those words Zoey felt to her core.

"No, wait…"

She pulled herself away with a wrench, feeling his fingers cling on to her until the last moment. She knew Mira was holding him back, pushing him into the room and turning to join them as they stepped gingerly out of the broken window. "No, please! He's all I have…please!"

She tried to block him out as they all hopped up onto the wall of the balcony. He was behind them, wobbling fingers grasping at the hem of Mira's pyjama bottoms. "Wait, you can't…wait!"

Whatever he wanted to say devolved into a desperate cry as they all stepped off the balcony as one. That cry dissolved into the wind at Zoey's ears as they all hurtled down, the vertigo blossoming in her stomach a welcome tincture against the burn in her side and ache in her heart. He screamed again, desperate and heart-breaking, but the Hunters were plummeting so fast it faded into the distance. Or at least the sound did - the plaintive pleading in it lodged in her heart to war with her Hunter's instinct in the face of Baby's attack. However violent it had been.

This didn't feel good.

Chapter Text

"I don't feel good about this, Rumi!" Zoey yelled over the rush of air in her ears.

"None of us feel good about this, Zoey!" she replied, reaching out and tangling their fingers together. She knew her palms were sweaty and didn't mind Zoey finding out. From the first roll of her stomach at Zoey's cry for help, splitting through a dream where her phantom visitor had been fretting at her in a fashion far more alarming than sensual, to the solid pit of grim purpose in her gut now, none of this felt good. Romance wasn't supposed to beg them to spare Baby, Baby was not supposed to risk everything by coming to get Romance and now…

Now they were headed in the same direction as Romance had fled that night and the fear lurking at the pit of her stomach began to loom. Baby was headed to Namsan. Of course he was headed to Namsan.

They landed a few blocks away from where the city gave way to dark forest on the hill. Most tourists took the cable car up to the tower from a nearby building, some brave ones taking the route up if they had the time. None at this time, though. The paths up the hill to the tower complex were dark, something menacing and too-big about the shadow of the stadium above. Rumi felt Mira come in shoulder to shoulder with her and Zoey, linking them.

"We're really going back, then?" she asked, quietly. Zoey shivered beside her.

"I'm scared." she said, simply.

"Me too," Rumi admitted, gripping both of their hands. "So are we ready?"

"Are you with us?" Zoey asked, strangely poignant. Rumi looked down at her, hating the look in her dark eyes - like she was just waiting for Rumi to hurt her. Rumi never wanted to hurt her again.

"I'm with you." she breathed back. "Always."

"We're with each other, right?" Mira asked from beside her. Rumi held Zoey's gaze, meeting the veiled accusation there.

"Are you alright to go on?" she asked. Zoey nodded but didn't look away. "Then I'm with you both. I promise," she added, lifting her hand to Zoey's face. Zoey was trembling and Rumi didn't know what was wrong. "I promise, as long as you tell us the moment that injury gets too much to handle."

"That's a wound that's going to need stitches, Zoey." Mira piped up, sternly. "We've got a little while until it catches up with you, then I'm calling our doctor straight away, alright?"

"Trust me," Zoey said quietly. "I can't not be here for this. I'll tell you."

"Ok," Rumi replied, kissing her on her forehead and wishing she could do more, anything to stop Zoey looking at her like that. "Together then."

"Together."

"Together."

They turned to look up the slope towards the walls of the stadium, its silhouette dark but its surface lit dimly by the light of the half-moon. A far cry from the red and purple nightmare they had approached a few months ago, yet that phantom loomed out of the darkness in their minds like it was real. As they watched, a more tangible shadow skittered across the surface of the walls, halting halfway up. As far away as they were, Baby was just a leggy smear against the pale surface, but they could see the intent in that pause. He hung from some unseen handhold, monkey-like, to look straight at them for a moment before crawling like a spider up and over the top. If Rumi had imagined a flash of those huge, bug-like eyes then she was certain the others had too. She squeezed their hands once more and started moving forward, her sword solid in her hands. For the first time in a few days, there was no doubt in her mind and her fingers drummed comfortably on the hilt. If something deep inside her shuddered, pulsed light through her blade only to lie distressed and waiting in her gut, she chose to ignore it. Now wasn't the time.

They didn't rush. It was clear that Baby wanted them to come here and Rumi didn't need to bring her new song into effect to know that he was waiting for them at the stadium. So they took their time, allowing for Zoey to slow her heartbeat and re-calibre. It was a rare thing for Zoey to be the one to pop the pouch open on her arm and take the pills herself - being a Hunter meant having some powerful pain-killer/pick-me-ups in their possession and they had decided as a group that Zoey was the best one to act as gatekeeper. She wasn't a fan of drugs if she could help it - it just went to show how much her current injury hurt. At least Baby had mostly hit her ribs, which would sting like a bitch but had protected softer, more vulnerable parts of her insides from those sharp claws.

Rumi's stomach started doing double-flips as they entered the double doors to the ring, suspiciously open even though they'd all seen Baby clamber up the wall. She reached out either side of her and felt for her girls' hands - both of them clung back all-too-quickly. She couldn't imagine what it was like for them to come back here, memories hazy with the presence of the demon king and his dark temptations. Rumi's own memories were blurry enough - they'd lamented not really remembering the song they had sung to defeat him until they decided it didn't matter - if they were meant to remember, they would. It wasn't as if it was a calm, reflective moment when they sang it, the souls of a stadium flooding through them like rushing water through a gully.

Mira paused them all as they approached the doors that led to the stadium. These ones were closed. Rumi half expected to see saturated pink/purple light bleeding in from around the edges, but it looked dark.

"He isn't like Romance was." Mira said, soft but firm. "Whatever he did, he did with intent."

"Which was try to save his friend." Zoey argued miserably.

"I know, Zoey." Mira soothed. "Which is why we're going to give him a chance. But he's already hurt you. We need to be ready for him to force our hand here."

"I know." Zoey said, sighing. "I'm ready. We all went through the same training. And if there was a chance for Baby and we miss it, that's just another sin at Gwi-Ma's door as far as I'm concerned."

"Exactly." Rumi agreed, realising just how much she believed it. Here in this place, with the memories of that awful night churning inside her, her hatred for the demon king burned hot. She felt it ripple over her body and knew her scars had shimmered. Neither of her lovers flinched. So neither did she.

She kicked the doors in as they entered, letting the heat of her anger pull at the sword. The engravings flickered and she hardened her heart against them, just as the reality of what they'd just entered swept over her.

It nearly took her breath away.

Unseen around them, the honmoon shuddered. Not once, or in bursts, but constantly. This was no gentle tremble but a jagged, frenzied feeling against her heart. It was so violently silent it hurt her ears, her eardrums popping and re-popping like she was falling and rising hundreds of feet with each step. Above this silence, or below it, or through it, played a cacophony of melody and lyrics that threatened to overload her brain like someone had just set off a thousand different sets of speakers, all starting at different parts of the song, mashing it all together to overwhelm her senses. Or, as fragments of those melodies scurried in through her ears to what felt like her soul, two songs. One of them sent cold fingers of fear down her her spine and she barely remembered the other one, but it nestled inside her like it belonged.

Every time it hurts, play another verse…my voice without the lies…

Each string of melody she heard caught at her fear or her determination, her despair or her fierce love - it was dizzying to feel so much all at the same time. Memories flooded through her, deep and horrifying, threatening to isolate every self-doubt she ever had and hone them into her own personal daggers to pierce herself with. She gritted her teeth and reached to either side of her again, gripping Zoey's and Mira's hands. Their palms were as sweaty as hers, but the way they held her back was strong and constant. Not this time.

I don't know why I didn't trust you…I'm the only one who'll love your sins…

Shadows flittered at the edge of her vision, nothing that she would see if she turned to them, but clamouring against her trained senses worse than any seance they'd ever botched. The air was alive here, something busy and crushing about the sensations buffeting her from every side. God but she hoped this was just the honmoon. Even if that prospect was terrifying it was better than the alternative. Unbidden, flashes of memory resurfaced - bubbling, ravenous tangles of limbs surging towards them only to be sucked back into the flames on the whim of a desperate king. The Lemures* were one of the first horror stories Hunters were told in their training - twisted souls of mortals sucked down by lesser demons or cast down by their own deeds, so worthless to the demon king that he didn't even bother to give them faces, just stitched their souls together in a nightmarish horde. Even so, each one had been a human, once. Each one had had a soul. Gods…

Keep it out of sight…beauty in the broken glass…

Baby was crouching on stage, his elbows resting lightly on his knees as he watched them. The stadium was dark except for the emergency lighting, casting him in strange, deep shadows. Even so, those eyes gleamed in the night, the outline of that doll-like face reminiscent of a preying mantis deciding whether or not to bite your head off. The Hunters made their way down the long stretch of stage, Rumi dimly marvelling that it was still set out this way. She knew the stadium had been closed since the concert - she hadn't known it had remained untouched.

"Ok, Baby." she called, voice strong as they came forward towards the cross. "We're here. What do you want?"

He stood, eyes narrowing.

"You've never even been back here, have you?" he asked, voice dark but somehow carrying the lessening distance between them. The Hunters had nearly made it to the cross stage, now. Where the fight had really happened. Rumi tried desperately not to think of soft brown eyes and the shocking eruption of blue around them that didn't quite make up for watching him fade away. It didn't work.

"Why does it matter?" she asked, refusing to let her sorrow colour her voice. "What's here?"

He said nothing at first, just raised his arms out to his sides like a cross, stepping back like what Rumi was feeling was all the evidence he needed.

"What if I just wanted to show you the consequences of your actions, Hunters." he gloated, "Maybe, for once, I just wanted to…"

He stopped and his gaze slid past Rumi's left shoulder, his mouth dropping open in horror. Rumi was just about to call back that she wasn't going to fall for it, only then she heard a groan behind her, something that sounded sickeningly like a crunch and the obvious sound of someone falling to the floor. So she turned, a gasp catching in her throat.

Romance was collapsed behind them, teeth gritted in a rictus of pain as he tried to raise himself to an elbow, pulling himself along. It took Rumi a moment to realize that there was something very wrong with him - one leg was at a hideous angle and his face was all but mangled on one side. The more she noticed the more there was to see - blood coughing out of his mouth, his other arm hanging uselessly at his side from a shoulder way too far out from his body. He was a mangled mess and she didn't understand why. His arm couldn't hold him and he fell face first onto the stage again - Rumi wasn't entirely sure the arm had given way at the elbow and not somewhere in-between…

"Romance!"

It was Zoey who cried out, Zoey who rushed immediately back towards him despite her own injuries, who reached out to him only for him to cry out in pain when she touched him and for her to flinch away, face draining of colour. "Oh my god." she breathed, looking at her hands like he'd burned her and then up at them both, her dark eyes very wide. "Oh my god, he's so broken."

No one is coming to save you…we're shouting in the quiet 'You're not alone'…

"The fuck did you do!?" Baby called from the stage. Rumi and Mira turned so they faced each other, able to see both Baby and Romance. Romance coughed.

"Please…" he choked, clawing at Zoey's arm with broken fingers. She shuddered and tried to gently lift them off her to alleviate the pressure, clearly slightly sickened by the feel of them. "Please don't kill him."

"How the hell did you even get here?" Mira asked from beside her. "You can't poof. Or fly."

"Oh god," Rumi whispered. "Oh my god he jumped."

As quiet as her voice was, it seemed to echo through the whole stadium, punctured only by Romance's broken little pleas, muffled against Zoey's knees.

"You fucking didn't." Baby said finally. His voice sounded hollow - his face was still open in disbelief. It made him look very young. He wasn't prepared for this, Rumi realized, despite probably being older than the three of them combined he had nothing to fight this with.

"You…you came for me, didn't you?" Romance asked, hauling himself onto his back so his head rested on Zoey's legs. It clearly hurt him and Rumi tried very hard not to notice how some parts of his body didn't quite move with the rest of him like they should. She felt a little queasy. It was somehow horrifying to see his self-deprecating smirk through the mess of his face. "Couldn't just…let them kill you after that."

Baby stared at him, mouth still open like a fish.

"Romance," Zoey said quietly, Rumi hearing tears building up in her voice as her hand came up to hold Romance's face on the least hurt side. She hiccuped a little sob as she ran her thumb very gently over his cheekbone. "Romance that building is, like, sixty floors."

"I'm a demon, darling. I'll heal." he coughed, his attempt to sound glib ruined by the blood on his teeth. "Oh now, now…" he continued, trying and failing to move his arm. "Those tears…aren't for me, are they?"

"Stupid!" Zoey cried, lifting her arm as if to hit him but clearly thinking better of it. She just curled up around him and her muffled sobs tore at Rumi's heart. Romance shifted so he pressed as close to her as possible.

"Feels good, sweet thing…being close to you. My head…I think if it wasn't….hurting quite so much I'd be going crazy. Never thought…the Hunter's Light would feel so soothing…"

Don't let it show, keep it all inside…show me what's underneath, I'll find your harmony…

Rumi and Mira looked at each other, Zoey raising her tear-stained face to join them. Well, Rumi thought, it had to have occurred to all of them, that whatever was wrong with the honmoon started here. Given how it was feeling all around her, Rumi rather thought it was a definite by now. However, they still had a vengeful Saja Boy to deal with.

"You see how you'd be missed, Baby." she said shamelessly, turning to him. "Let's not do this."

He didn't answer, looking first at Romance, then her, then back again.

"Come on, man." Mira tried from beside her. "I'm not saying we'll all be holding hands as we go, but this doesn't need to happen."

Rumi was momentarily part-blinded by pride and gratitude and affection. Her Mira, talking to a demon this way? Willing to give them a chance? She swallowed the lump in her throat down forcefully and tried to pull herself together. The engravings of her sword pulsed gently, warmth blooming in her chest.

Baby was shaking his head when she looked back, taking a step or so back.

"Sing." he said finally.

"What?" she asked.

"Sing. I said, sing!" he cried louder, making a leap over to one side of the cross, behind her. She spun and saw Mira cross to between her and Zoey. Rumi changed the grip on her sword as he started stalking back and forth.

"Baby, I don't think that…"

"Sing, bitch!"

His mouth snarled as he shouted it, the thrum in his voice pulling at something deeper than blood inside her and echoing dully around the stadium, like it was reverberating in something thicker than air. The clamour around her pressed in so hard that, for a moment, she thought she couldn't breath. Gods she didn't want to see this.

"Rumi?" Mira asked from behind her.

"Yeah." she replied.

"As much as I hate to say it, that might not be such a bad idea."

"I said sing, bitch!"

"Stop calling me a bitch!" Rumi yelled back, conflicted.

"I'd have you covered," Mira murmured, "But I don't want to…."

"Cover her, Mira." Zoey called. "I have the blades if he comes for us and Romance is way too broken to try anything."

"Please…" Romance croaked, "Maybe...maybe they're…"

"Ok." Mira interrupted, turning away from Romance like she couldn't bear to look at him. Rumi didn't blame her. "I have your back then."

Rumi didn't think Mira would ever quite understand the comfort that brought her. Cold comfort, given what she was about to do, but a comfort nevertheless. She waited until Mira's tall frame appeared in her peripheral vision, glaive bright and grounding in front of her. Then she suddenly realized she didn't know what to sing. The answer came to her almost immediately, but she pushed it away, she didn't think she could bear to…

"Sing the one you sang to Romance, Rumi."

Zoey's voice echoed from behind her like it had come from her own heart. It broke her a little and she half-turned from Baby so he didn't see. She trusted Mira to keep an eye on him. Her head started shaking in denial and she could feel how wide they were when they looked back at Zoey.

"I don't…" she started, a lump suddenly surging up her throat to clog it and make her stumble. The tears came through in her voice. "I don't think I can sing that one, Zoey."

She was expecting Zoey's eyes to widen, for her to realise where the song came from. She was an idiot. The expression on Zoey's face was knowing and filled with love. But it was also stern in a way Zoey rarely got.

"I know, Rumi. I know." she said softly, certainty clear in her expression. "But that feeling you're feeling? Right now? If there is anything that can bring light to this place, it's that. It did before, right?"

Rumi felt salt run into her mouth. Zoey knew. Zoey knew that when Rumi thought of that moment, the girls and the fans weren't all she thought of. That when they spoke of the love that had brought the honmoon together Rumi also thought of him. Zoey already knew she'd loved him.

"Sing, bitch!"

She had a flash of rage at Baby for disturbing the moment only for it to be replaced with something akin to gratitude - nothing like anger to cut through a turmoil of emotions. She looked back at Zoey, wiping her tears away roughly with her back of her hand. Zoey, eyes still strong, smiled a little.

"We'll sing it with you if you need us."

They'd be here for her, afterwards, was the translation left unsaid. If she needed them to help her pull herself back together again, they'd be there. Rumi felt the familiar rush of terror, of cold knowledge that, even if she could bring herself to fall to pieces, she wasn't sure she knew how to let anyone scoop those pieces up. But then she caught sight of Romance, head lying on Zoey's lap, eyebrows furrowed in pain, watching her with a wary hope. This wasn't just for her and it certainly wasn't for Baby. They all had ghosts in this place - and she had been trained since she could walk to face monsters. Of all kinds. Even her own. Something clicked into place inside her - she hadn't expected fighting on behalf of humans and demons both to feel quite so right. Gwi-Ma had damaged them all to some degree - it just made sense.

She took a breath, then turned back to where Baby was prowling and loosened her hold on her sword.

Ok, she thought, sending acquiescence to the part of her yearning to push outwards. Now wasn't the time to ask if it was part of her or belonging to someone else. It was linked intimately with her compassion and she needed her compassion to bring their honmoon into technicolour.

You're down on your knees…we're rising, defiant…

Ok, she thought again, feeling it swirl around her and out until her skin tingled with it. She knew without looking that her sword had changed, the lighter, longer weight of it becoming familiar in her grip. Ok.

By the time she brought the hilt of her sword down it was already a staff, the tip striking the stage. It reverberated around them like a gong, the ripples of sound resonating so clearly with her own heartbeat she couldn't find it in herself to be surprised. It felt comfortable in her hands. She raised the staff again, the delicate tinkling of the rings at the top of it creating a harmony of its own. A key to weave her voice into. As quiet as it was, it drowned out the dissonant snatches of the other songs so she could find her starting note.

I tried to hide…

The moment she began to sing Baby stepped back a little, his eyes darting knowingly around the building. It took a moment to begin, the din of the songs pulsing so strongly that she nearly lost the melody. She felt Mira's hand tangle in hers and then her voice joined her, just like Zoey's had done, even though they didn't know the song. Mira's harmonies had always grounded her voice like she could feel the whole earth supporting her from the soles of her feet up and she used it now.

Faint bursts of light started flickering around them, struggling against the sucking vacuum of whatever was here. Rumi could almost feel the weight of it pushing against her voice and deep within her body where her soul was trying to extend its influence out. Mira squeezed her hand and moved to behind her, glaive out in front but her body plastered against Rumi's back, a strong arm around her waist, dipping under her jacket to press her bare fingers against Rumi's stomach. The touch strengthened her, let her feel Mira's soul pressing up against hers as clearly as her body was - she let it join her like Mira's voice was joining hers and the lights strengthened a little more.

It still wasn't enough, darkness less passive and more an active, furious absence of light pushing into them with the silent howls of a thousand voices Rumi desperately didn't want to hear. Fear was a living thing in her and it was only the weight of Mira behind her that kept her singing. Keeping the rest of her body steady, she slowly tilted her head to the side, a silent instruction to Zoey. After a few moments Rumi's melody, bolstered by Mira's low harmonies, was joined by a soprano line, starting faint and a little wobbly, but warming immediately. The light didn't grow, just hovered, quivering for a moment, growing in brightness. Rumi poured a little more strength into her song and felt the others do the same, feeling like their voices were pushing against this swarming emptiness like a breath held too long. Then the damn broke and the light spiralled outwards, igniting the strands of their new honmoon from the tip of Rumi's staff outwards, lighting the entire stadium.

Just for a moment, the song faltered.

Rumi was the first to recover, hoisting herself back into the chorus. Her voice was hollowed by her fear and revulsion - she was in her chest range but her diaphragm seemed to have dropped out of her body. She couldn't get enough breath to support it. She heard Mira join her, her notes almost staccato like she couldn't drag enough breath into her lungs to sustain a note. When Zoey's voice came back in the tears were evident, the longer notes punctuated with the percussion of quiet hiccups where she was trying not to cry.

The stadium was a nightmarish mess. Their honmoon, their beautiful honmoon, was twisted and warped around the entire space. There were pockets of light, gleaming pitifully in resonance with the light they were bringing in, but the rest made her blood run hot and cold at the same time. Whatever small part of it they had seen on the concrete that night with Romance was but a small part of this - whole sections of the stadium looked like they had dropped out of space itself - the honmoon a broiling mass of darkness so complete it sucked the light out of everything else. Other parts were splintered, the rubble she was only just seeing nothing to do with crumbling infrastructure but from angry, jagged, neon-red tangles of the honmoon strands, so violent they looked like a tortured scream made real. As full and overwhelming as this new honmoon was, it hadn't felt like a true web to Rumi until this moment. No neat little house spider's web, either - this was a thing of traps and poison and hanging tangled strands piled onto others coating everything in their path.

To her resigned horror, there were things caught in that web. She hadn't been wrong about the Lemures. She really, really wished she had been.

Scattered around the mass of twisted strands were jerking, flailing shapes. Some of them were human shaped. Some were most definitely not. Some she could only see part of their limbs - a leg twitching like it's host was being electrocuted but disappearing into a vice of garish pink honmoon so she couldn't see the rest of the body. A torso held across the chest with one arm out, hanging limp and lifeless to one side whilst the faceless head thrashed and spun in ways a human head should never be able to. They were the Lemures, just as Rumi had feared. And they were trapped.

Mira full-body shuddered against her and her voice wavered for a moment. Rumi cocked her head, trying to swallow in-between lines down a throat too dry. She really hoped she wasn't going to be sick, but her neck was beginning to feel hot. Mira's glaive moved, slowly, shifting Rumi's gaze to a captured Lemure at the edge of the stage, close to them. It was suspended so strangely she couldn't figure out how its body was supposed to be for a second, arm hideously twisted around its neck and face thrown back to repeatedly slam the back of it into the stage. She should have been able to hear it screaming from here. Parts of her other than her ears, deeper even than her heart, kind of could. The same parts of her, she realized, that were thrumming in empathic resonance with a cold burst of realization that wasn't hers. She knew, somehow, that it was Mira's, just as the burst of pained compassion from behind her was Zoey's. She'd know their hearts anywhere. What were they seeing that she wasn't?

She shook her head against it all, trying to see what Mira was pointing at whilst trying to keep the song going. The body of the lesser demon itself disappeared into one of the tangled masses of honmoon, and she peered in amongst the tangles trying to see what Mira and Zoey had seen. Between the indigo/fuchsia threads of corrupted honmoon she could see flashes of what was underneath. Mostly because those flashes were the light of the honmoon she was accustomed to seeing, bright and in their multitudes, uniform and thousands of tiny grids like a mesh. Those lines almost pressed against the air like rope tied taught across flesh, digging into something that wasn't here. Only it was there, wasn't it? That was the whole point.

The truth of it came to her in a flash - these pitiful creatures weren't caught in just any honmoon, flying about the world like these new strands they had found. The honmoon itself had always been a barrier between earth and Hell, stretched across the fabric of them both like a woven net. A net she was looking straight at, glinting with gold through the white and stronger than it had ever been. A flash of memories lined up in sequence in her mind - the surge of her new power that had bisected the demon king, the gathering of his final strength in the face of their approach, the roar of his defeat, the burst of light, the explosion of power as he was vanquished…the immediate creation of their new honmoon, snapping tight over all of it.

Demons, when they died on earth, were banished to Hell - dragged back to their king and realm like they were strung on a broken elastic band. Only these poor, pitiful souls, so meaningless in their multitudes that they were good for nothing but fodder for their king, hadn't made it all the way back before the honmoon had come down. They weren't just trapped in the honmoon, they were caught, suspended, between earth and Hell. And had been for months.

The sheer horror of it nearly buckled her knees and Mira, on a rare occasion for her, almost wasn't ready to catch her. There was too much to think about - to process what they were seeing, to try and figure our what to do about it, how to fix it. There was no doubt in her mind now that the corruption of the honmoon came from here, came from whatever was left of Gwi-Ma that had been left here from his defeat, caught on this side when the honmoon snapped into place. She kept singing only because their light was slowly flooding the place, rearing up in places the tangles were less dark. Wherever it shone, the Lemures quietened. She didn't know if that was because the light frightened them or gave them succour.

She caught Baby's sudden movement out of the corner of her eye at the same time as she heard a strangled cry from Romance, behind her. Baby had suddenly darted to one side, heading diagonally towards the main stage. Her gaze followed him to a spot suspended in the crook of the crossed stage, where the honmoon pulsed deep, deep red and howled in that awful silence with more violence than anywhere else. There were bodies here, too, strung up with cords of honmoon, bright light harsh against their flesh. It dug into their arms to hold them this side of the divide, crucified and straining, wrapping around their necks to pull them taught and supplicant towards the sky. Suddenly Baby's entire plan clicked into place. She knew why he'd brought them here.

The Lemures weren't the only ones who had been caught in-between when the honmoon came down.

So had Abby and Mystery.

Chapter Text

Rumi took in the sight of Abby and Mystery in its entirety. There was something perversely aesthetic about them, like those beautiful bodies Michelangelo elevated to the heavens on the ceiling of the Sistine Chapel only to twist them into hell with the same brush. Abby was all muscled hero, contoured into rictuses of pain and religious ecstasy. Mystery, though - Mystery looked so thin he might as well have been a ghoul of the night, all hard lines and sinew. He more than anything else here seemed almost not-there, like a part of him was more shadow than man.

Mira's arm tightened around her middle and, a moment later, Zoey appeared at her side. There was a frown on her beautiful face as she looked up at them both that immediately softened. Rumi felt the warm steel of compassion rise in this strange echo chamber they had created between them, but she didn't need it. She knew them all well enough. They were going to try to save them. Not one of them was oblivious to the fact that they might not be able to do that with the honmoon intact. She also knew for certain that, if that was the case, that they'd leave them there to protect the honmoon. They'd find another way if they could, but they couldn't risk the world for them.

Baby was standing deathly still by the two strung bodies, looking back at the three of them. Rumi couldn't tell if his expression was accusatory, demanding or helpless. Probably all three. She took a breath, feeling the girls centre their own breathing around her, synching it, and took in the scene. This wasn't the right song anymore.

How It's Done had been an absolute pain to turn acoustic - it wasn't the kind of song that leant itself to a slower beat - but she and Zoey had done it, with Mira's help. They'd decided to replace the traditional flute that kicked the whole thing off with an acapella moment, one Zoey and Mira instantly recognised when Rumi slid her voice into it. There was an adrenaline-fuelled giggle of relieved glee in Zoey's first line and Rumi felt Mira roll her shoulders behind her.

Here we go, then, she thought.

At first it seemed to make no difference whatsoever and worries crowded round her - was it too soon? Did they not know this song well enough? Were they not confident enough in it? But then, as always, their voices seemed to mingle and the intertwining light strands around them started to pulse outwards. Threads of blue bled into the white and she felt their weapons shiver, felt the part of her she always thought belonged to them reach outwards for the boys, something sentient and deeper about it now, active in how it connected them.

They watched the light meander outwards like the whole stadium was in tableau. For a few wonderful seconds it looked like it was going to work, until the thrumming red of the corrupted honmoon shuddered, violence ripping apart the gentle light wherever it touched it. It was Mira who hardened her voice first - they had only just got to her first lines and she lobbed the muted beat back into her words with enough momentum that Rumi and Zoey picked it back up for the next section.

Body on body…

It had the effect they wanted - the broken strands of their honmoon shivered and shook with it, strengthening under their gaze. Rumi found herself grinning, confidence seeping into her body as her shoulders relaxed and she found her footing. Staff or sword, they were warriors first.

It didn't take long for them to bring the song right back to its origins and Mira started walking forwards to the beat, kicking out her feet and cracking her knuckles like she did at the beginning of dance practice. Or at the beginning of a fight. Rumi wasn't really sure which this counted as any more. She watched as their light wound its way through the twisted forest of corruption, washing over the captured bodies of the Lemures and delving like inquisitive tentacles around where the honmoon caught them. The feeling made Rumi shiver, bile rising in her throat, but the song had caught her soul on fire and she pushed through, feeling Zoey and Mira next to her in a way she never had before, so very connected. She felt the soft glow of the honmoon turn harder and desperate as it clung to whatever flesh it could, felt the echo of the tattered ends of it somewhere past a barrier that felt like a bubble of lead in her mind. She could feel its frustrated desire to heal, to purify, unable to do anything but tangle into more and more threads, replacing any that became corrupted. It was a losing battle. As for what it was fighting against, Rumi couldn't be sure what it was, but as her consciousness slid over the worst of the corruption fierce flashes of memory ran like shocks through her body - the first sight of Gwi-Ma towering over the crowds, the silken blade of his voice, the sickening yearning, the sheer size of him as he rose, bloated on the broken souls of the Lemures, to throw Hell itself at her. She felt herself and her girls shy away from the potential truth of it - that there were pieces of him left after his fall to cling, pustulant and fetid, this side of the honmoon. All three were Hunters, though, and she felt all three of them square up to the truth and dare it to break them. The only truth left to face, then, was what really lay behind that barrier. Knowing it in principal had never been enough.

Rumi felt them all acknowledge, with no doubt whatsoever, that the tempestuous, frigid, desert-like, sulphurous chaos behind that barrier was Hell. Waiting, a landscape somehow sentient, to pounce through these rips in the world like it was never able to when demons came through normal rifts. The implication settled fierce determination in her gut - they could feel the honmoon clinging to whatever was stuck in it like flesh healing around an arrowhead that hadn't been pulled out immediately. It needed them.

Every single one of these creatures was a wound in the honmoon. Every single one of them was leaking out the despair of Hell into this world and the timid, persistent light of human souls into Hell itself. The honmoon couldn't close around them. Rumi felt the three of them shudder in her heart, the force between them pulsing blue as it drew them closer together, like they were huddling against the reality of it even as their bodies were separate in space. Each of these poor creatures, Abby and Mystery included, represented a rift to hell on their own. Like the corks on bottles, holding Hell back from here but anchoring here to Hell. They didn't need to worry about opening any rifts to get Abby and Mystery back - they just needed to worry about how they were going to pop those corks and then immediately stitch up the honmoon around the holes they made.

Freed from their worries and spurred by the horror around her, she turned back to Abby and Mystery, who were beginning to stir as slow waves of the Hunters' light danced trembling over their bodies. Baby started flitting around them like a worried butterfly as the Hunters found their rhythm and the two boys started flinching from the light. God but she hoped this didn't kill them - she didn't really want a Saja Boy massacre today. If Abby and Mystery died she had no doubts Baby would throw himself at them and force their hand. The idea of Romance not being strong enough to even make them kill him threatened to undermine the certainty currently providing the undercurrent to her song, so she decided it wasn't going to happen. Not to them, not today.

She watched the boys as Mira started to test out her ability to touch the honmoon by running strong fingers over nearby strands, approaching them slowly. Abby finally opened his eyes as Baby's fingers gripped his chin - his iris' were a shocking shade of acid yellow and neon violet as they flitted from one to the other, finding focus in Baby's face. Rumi was too far away and he clearly couldn't speak, but her heart clenched a little as he immediately looked over at where he must be just not able to see Mystery, the pained jerk of his head and pleading look clear. Baby took him at his word, pressing a firm kiss to Abby's forehead before turning to his band mate. Rumi watched Abby's outstretched hand reach towards Mystery with no hope of closing the distance between them. How long had he been trying to reach him?

It was surprisingly easy to shift them into the role of people Rumi needed to protect. No one, not even demons, deserved this fate. If Hunters were supposed to uphold justice, then it could only be justice to free them. Especially as she watched Mystery tremble in Baby's arms, keeping his eyes closed and jaw clenched. Even with as sheltered a life as she had experienced, Rumi knew what a body looked like when it was accustomed to pain. Anger formed a wonderful bloom of heat in her belly and she was almost glad when Mira started dancing, bringing her voice out of their harmony and replacing it with movements of her body. Zoey and Rumi took on her lines and, to Rumi's great pleasure, Zoey sounded just as angry and determined as she was. She'd clearly found her energy, the energy that would have her spitting fire in the face of the demon king himself - even if she was favouring her right side.

Hear our voice unwavering…

They hit the bridge and she let her voice soar higher. Mira and Zoey were ready - Mira began to pull at the strands near her as Rumi's voice worked to separate them, Zoey pushing her voice forward to send waves through those strands, all but moving them into Mira's grip. Only it wasn't enough, Rumi realized, as the corrupted strands gripping the boys' bodies tight shimmered blue-red and lashed back out. It wasn't going to be enough. She met Zoey's gaze and they came to an unspoken agreement, looping the song back round to the second pre-chorus. They'd sing the same part of the song over and over again if it would help.

Knocking you out….

A few times round and it became obvious that it still wasn't going to be enough. Rumi felt desperation and frustration that wasn't hers crawl up her throat and pool in her belly. - Every knot Mira found there would be another, every thread she smoothed out turned jagged and angry as soon as her fingers left it. Hell didn't want to let them go.

A shaking grip on her leg nearly made Rumi falter and she looked down to see Romance wrapping himself around her thigh. She could hear the breath labouring in his chest, ragged and bubbling, his arm trembling with exertion against her. He looked up at her with big, pleading eyes and she looked back up at the other boys, feeling that warmth inside her reach out towards him like it had with the girls. She reigned it in, ignoring its outrage and forced herself think for a moment. Bravado alone wasn't going to get them out of this. She reached out and grabbed Zoey's arm, indicating she should take the lyric line as a possible solution came to her. She didn't think about it, couldn't think about it, just trailed her fingers down Zoey's arm until they squeezed her hand in a death grip. Zoey, clearly confused, just shifted her line to cover Rumi's and kept her gaze as Rumi picked her moment. Even on that night with Romance, she'd skipped this verse, but somehow, wound in the bridge of How It's Done, she could find a place for it.

Time goes by and I lose perspective…

She sang it at Zoey, needing the grounding of her gaze and desperately wishing she would understand. She saw Zoey's head tilt as she listened to the lyrics, watched her eyes flick from Rumi's mouth to her eyes to the hand that was white-knuckling Zoey's own. Rumi saw the moment that Zoey understood, needing the flood of warmth in Zoey's expression to keep her going. Zoey made a gesture to indicate that Rumi should calm down and Rumi took it as her cue - they turned back to the boys as Zoey let her go, coming instead to stand half-behind her, pressing her whole body against Rumi's. Rumi, almost instinctively, replaced her hand on her staff and used the other to reach down into Romance's blood-caked hair.

The different lines of their song flowed down the honmoon and they watched Mira hear the change before adapting that incredible body of hers to take advantage. She spun, turning their traditionally heroic, jagged moves into something more flowing - more like Golden. The confidence coupled with compassion infused every move she made and they watched, delighted, as some of the honmoon started almost moving towards her of its own accord. Baby, suspended between Abby and Mystery, watched with wide eyes as Mira started making progress - finally, they were gaining ground.

As the first of their glowing honmoon truly tangled with the mess around Abby's waist, he threw his head back with a howl of pain that split the air. A shadow that wasn't a shadow seemed to loom behind the honmoon - an impossibility, but this was Hell and Rumi wasn't expecting it to go down without a fight. She watched Mira grit her teeth and braced against the sheer psychological power of that shadow. Gwi-Ma was dead, she reminded herself, sending that hard thought through every channel she could to everyone caught in this web she stood at the heart of. Gwi-Ma is dead. She felt the familiar bursts of warmth from her girls, something colder and more desperate nevertheless coalescing into surprised determination from her feet. She'd examine how she felt about Romance being part of that web another damn time.

For all that it felt right, however, it didn't seem to matter in the face of Hell's grip on those it considered its own. Mystery started making an awful, low moaning sound, his head lolling against Baby's chest and the vibrating corruption started pushing back against Mira. Rage billowed within her and, even though it didn't fully feel like hers, she attached her own to it, feeling it echoed back, growing, from those around her. This wasn't fair, it wasn't fair! She felt the fury build up in her chest to push against the back of her teeth, ready to soar upwards with her voice with power - not just her own, but bringing with it the light in Mira and Zoey, the warming darkness from Romance, held together by whatever force had taken up residence in their souls since they were last here.

"No!" she yelled, deviating from the song for a second and not even caring that her voice carried tremors of demon in it. She lifted her staff, planting her feet wide and solid and hurling that same outpouring of rage and determination and compassion into her voice.

So take my hand it's open…

She slammed the tip of her staff into the ground beside her at the same time as Mira raised her glowing fists up like a hammer and brought them hurtling towards the floor. The resonance made her hands burn so brightly Rumi could hardly look at it and Mira used the momentum to split them, throwing them out to one side like she was ripping something apart. The matt of honmoon tethering the boys to the rifts split, straining to keep its shape until a buffet of wind travelled from the honmoon next to Rumi, the slow steady beat of Zoey's spoken word surging forward with every move she made, her foot stamping the floor to make their beat audible. Despite her size, the stage shuddered with every hit of her foot to the floor. The waves loosened the matt of strands from its tight hold and where there had been tight knots, there were now just tangles. They and Mira could deal with tangles.

Zoey separated from her, darting to one side to aim her voice from other angles, watching as the corruption rallied against this new push. As the shadow behind Abby was joined by a second behind Mystery Rumi thought for a moment it was all for nothing, but then she heard a voice underneath her own, singing His verse. A male voice. For a heart-stopping second she thought it was Him until her senses caught up with her heart - the voice was thinner, forced and lighter than his. Even so, it was only when tendrils of warm violet snaked upwards through the threads around her that she snapped out of it and looked down.

Romance was singing. Singing Jinu's verse with his ruined lungs and broken face. He didn't look at her, his eyes glued to where his three band-mates were. She looked up at Baby, who was casting his gaze around until it landed on Romance at her feet. She felt Romance nod at him and saw Baby shake his head, saw his lips move silently. He didn't know the words, he was saying, he didn't…he wasn't…

He wasn't ready. Romance needed Baby's voice to back him up, but Baby wasn't ready. She, however, slipped her hand from Romance's head to hold him firmly at the base of his neck. He looked at her then and she let them sing at each other for a moment, grief spreading warm through her body as every note he sang reminded her who he wasn't. She watched, slightly surprised, as a tear fell to land on his cheek. He didn't flinch, just knocked his head gently against her knee. She didn't know what that meant.

Seeing more tendrils of his warm fuchsia-violet voice join hers, she looked back up and let it happen. Even she couldn't deny the strength that flowed from it, weak and hurting though it was. Feeling wary acceptance from Mira and Zoey she let it flow forward and, to their joint delight, they watched as those strands of violet and white started slipping between the corruption, bursting open tangles to leave Mira and Zoey openings. It was working. It was really working.

The shadows that loomed trembled, but Rumi refused to be scared of them anymore, pouring everything she could into those last loops around the boys' waists. Baby was up with them again and she could see him grasp Mystery's chin, whispering in his ear, gripping Abby's hair to pull his head down, forcing their foreheads together. He was galvanizing them, she realized, able to recognise the attempt - how many times had she cajoled, bullied, pushed the girls to get up for just one more dance run, one more rep set. She watched him grasp Abby's bulging forearm hard enough to bruise and slip his fingers around Mystery's wrist. He was joining them, the only way he could. All she could do was match him.

How she, Romance and Zoey managed to make sense of this particular song mash-up, she didn't know - all she knew is that the next time she poured her voice into Free's soaring chorus she could feel them both with her. With a low ripping sound, somehow both shocking and stunningly predictable, the fabric of the honmoon tore apart at the seams of the boys' waists and the maw of Hell opened around them. The shadows of Hell might be losing this battle, but no shadow was about to ignore an opening in the world so large. Whatever scene of Hell had been behind them was blotted out as the shadows screamed upwards, eclipsing the sky in front of her.

As Rumi felt the screams of every captured Lemure in the stadium batter against her ears she dimly watched as Abby and Mystery, with roars of effort, freed themselves from the tatters of the honmoon and fall forwards, Baby unable to hold them. The three of them fell in a crumple on the ground, Baby's long arms, pulling the other two bodies as underneath his own as he could. Behind them, joined to Abby and Mystery like Peter Pan's damn shadow, came what looked like Hell itself. Hideous, twisted mirror-images of them, splashes of colours that should never exist smeared over physical forms stretched like nightmares, dropping somehow slow and inevitable from the trembling wounds in the world. Whatever forms Abby and Mystery took in Hell were following them into this world and the crowded, jumbled mass of Hell was on their heels. The Hunters had been prepped for glimpsing Hell through the rifts, but there was something terrifying in seeing it riding the bodies of its denizens so thoroughly, surrounded by the corrupted parts of the demon kings' flesh, trapped in this world, yearning and wailing for that yawning pit. It took a moment for Rumi's mind to make sense of the shapes within that hole in the world, feeling everyone she connected to shudder with the horror whatever it was they saw. She knew, from experience, it would be different for each of them. Hell prided itself on being tailor-fucking-made.

It had thrown images of her parents at her before, but never like this. Celine had never even told her whether it had been a union of love or hate and her imagination had been preyed on ever since - eyeless, twisted bodies shambling towards her mouthing her name in mangled, tongueless mouths. A male body in chains with a woman's wails of despair echoing in her ears, only then he was predatory and laughing, tortured and flogged, wrapping sinful arms around the female body at his side, who reached for him and struggled against him in turn. Terror rose, huge and choking, in her throat and she felt it doubled, tripled from Zoey and Mira. It was happening too fast and they weren't ready, this new compassion throwing their hearts open so that it hurt in a way it hadn't before. All it took was a misstep in Mira's dance and in the time it took Rumi to drop her staff in an attempt to flee from it all three of them shut the whole thing down.

Rumi hurled herself at the rifts - her voice and her body. She felt a weak little voice in her protest but the fear gripping her heart drowned them out. Huntrix formed again as they knew each other best, blades in hand and voices rising to heal the holes in the honmoon. It didn't take long. Broken though they had been, they'd reformed in a battle against the king of Hell himself - however powerful this surge of Hell was, it paled in comparison and the light of the honmoon flowed freely, pulling tight and confining over places it had previously been caressing. There was something harsh in that change, but the fear that rode them made that harshness warm and welcoming.

They sprang back a shockingly short time later as the honmoon knitted itself together, sealing away the last not-light of Hell. As they wrapped up their song, their voices echoed into silence around the stadium, taking the howl of Hell and silent screams of the still caught Lemures with it. For a couple of moments the stadium was strangely quiet - Rumi couldn't hear anything above her breathing and pounding heart. In that moment she looked at where Abby and Mystery were now kneeling on the floor and saw, in the fading light, what looked like chains leading from their bodies to where the rifts had been. Only then the chains were gone like they had never been there and she looked over to the others to check they'd seen them too. Mira just nodded at her, breathing hard and eyes wide.

"Abby!"

Romance's cry made them jump and Zoey made a small sound of protest, running to him as he tried to crawl forward but fell onto his elbows.

Abby, it seemed, had already made his way to Mystery and was cradling him in his arms, eyes wide and slightly manic as they looked around. They settled on the girls and narrowed.

"What the fuck?" he snarled, looking over at where Zoey was trying to help Romance up. His face twisted into a snarl. "What the fuck!?"

His last word echoed around the stadium and reverberated around it in strange patterns. The hideous sculpture of corruption and caught bodies was fading, but Rumi and Mira watched in trepidation as those bodies started stirring again.

"We need to get out of here." Mira said quietly.

"I don't have anything like what we just did in me again." Rumi admitted, "Whatever needs to be done here is going to have to happen another night." Mira nodded.

"Honestly I'm going to have to push it just to walk out of here."

There was a hollowness to her voice that made Rumi reach out and squeeze her hand. The speed at which Mira squeezed back told her everything she needed to know. She wasn't the only one utterly shaken by this whole horrible night. She instinctively reached inside her, only to feel an uneasy exhaustion sitting heavy just under her breastbone.

The Lemures shuddered again, fading echoes growing around them and making the air tremble. They needed to leave.

She heard what sounded like Abby and Baby arguing as she turned and stalked towards Romance, feeling Mira behind her. Zoey was scooped up with a surprised squeak into Mira's uncompromising arms and Rumi reached to do the same with Romance, only to snatch her hand back as Baby beat her to it, scuttling over the floor to lie bodily over Romance and turn his head to her, hissing. The ferocity of it, the sheer unexpectedness of it in the face of everything she had taken in tonight undid her usually unshakeable sense of propriety.

"Fuck you." she snapped as he turned and lifted Romance, princess style, in his arms. To her embarrassment, Romance shot her a tired look of surprise.

"Rumi." he admonished. "Language."

"You can shut up also," she muttered, "You're not my damn mother. And you should be saving your strength you idiot."

"Needing to leave now!" Mira called as a shuddering moan from a thousand voices resounded around stadium. Rumi fully agreed.

They sprinted back up the stage towards the double doors, Rumi flinching as it felt like a thousand hands started reaching for her, grabbing at her hair and clothes. She wished they didn't feel so desperate, that she didn't feel like she was abandoning them. There was nothing left to save, she told herself - even if she stayed, all she could do was put them down with some dignity. Their souls had been ravaged beyond saving long before this.

They kept running through the ring as the air dropped heavy around them. Beside her, Abby stumbled with Mystery on his back and she reached out to steady him. His flinch back and gnashing of his teeth shouldn't have surprised her, or sent a little tremor of hurt through her, but it did. Her heart was still very open, it seemed. They ran together, all six of them, and in the half-darkness Rumi couldn't tell whose hounded footsteps were whose.

Chapter Text

The moment she felt like she could breath again, that Hell wasn't actually crawling up her throat from her stomach, Rumi called a halt to them all. They were halfway down the hill, on the path that led away from the main entrance, illuminated by nothing but the distant spotlights.

She heard Mira and Zoey gently bickering as Zoey insisted on being put down, (and a very similar argument from Romance and Baby, although Baby won that one quicker) but Rumi was more interested in Abby and Mystery, who were crouched near a hydrangea bush.

"Are you alright?" she asked. Mystery turned his head to her but said nothing as he was gently manhandled by Abby, who was checking him over and didn't respond at all. "Hey," she continued, moving towards them.

The moment she got close Abby turned, poised for a fight and snarling. She almost saw the amber eyes and purple skin super-imposed on him before she suddenly realised that they hadn't actually materialised. From the shocked, confused look on his face, he'd just noticed, too. He stood, looking at her like she was the one who had done something wrong, then lifted his hands and went to snarl at her again. He did snarl. Just not like a demon. More like a cut-price vampire impersonator at a children's Halloween party.

"Do you want to try that again?" she asked, generously.

"Fuck off." he snapped, clearly trying to shift into his demon form again. Thwarted, he turned to Baby. "The fuck is happening?"

"They cut off your demon balls, Abs." Baby responded simply. "You don't feel it?"

Abby lifted a hand to his chest, where Rumi was sure she had seen chains before, leading to the wounds in the honmoon. It was Mystery who spoke, though, very softly.

"Yes," he murmured, ducking even further under his fringe. "We are incomplete."

"Oh yeah?" Abby replied. "What, like our demon parts are gone?"

"Not gone," Mystery responded, sounding upset. He hugged his knees until his face was all but between them, his voice muffled. "Hell keeps hold of its own. We're just broken now."

Abby let out a bark of laughter.

"Well we were always that. So," he continued, turning to Rumi with his hands on his hips. The expression on his face was hard and not friendly at all. "The fuck did you do to my fucking Romance you pieces of shit?"

Rumi was momentarily taken aback, partly by trying to work out what he was asking through the profanity. Some part of her wasn't surprised that this was who Abby was. Another part, the part still reeling from what she had just seen, just felt a little bruised by it all.

"They didn't do anything, Abby." Romance responded, sounding very tired. "I just couldn't let them…I thought they were going to hurt Baby."

"Why would they do that?"

"Because your precious Baby broke into our home and jumped Zoey from behind." Mira responded, equally unfriendly.

"Back to how you can't turn into your demon form," Rumi interjected, trying to refocus them. Abby rolled his shoulders, looking a little embarrassed.

"You just have to keep coming back to that, huh."

"Are you in pain?" she continued, ignoring him.

"Why do you care?"

"Just answer the question, Abby." Romance implored from behind her.

"Why should I?"

"Because they saved me, is why."

"They've been keeping him prisoner in the damn Keep, Abs."

Abby's eyes narrowed as Baby's neat summation of the situation hit the conversation like lead bullets and his lip curled as he looked back at Rumi. It would have been intimidating if she didn't know he was practically gelded. So she stepped forward, deep into the shadow cast by his body, so much taller and larger than hers. He let her, holding her gaze. He was trembling slightly, she noticed now that she was closer to him. What body was visible under the tattered remnants of his dark clothes was pale and sweating, chest rising and falling just a little too quickly. Pity welled in her as she remembered how he had looked, held prostrate and agonized in the strings of the honmoon, spread like a battleground for the pure and corrupted strands to fight in.

"We're not keeping him prisoner, Abby." She said softly, trying to be reassuring. He cocked his head slightly. "I'm not surprised if you haven't noticed given what you've just been through, but that corruption in the honmoon has spread out. It was driving him crazy."

He nodded. His voice, when it came, was equally low. There was something intimate in it that suddenly made her very aware, in a whole different way, how close he was to her.

"So, you saved him?"

Rumi smiled, relief flooding through her.

"Yes, we did. We couldn't leave him in pain like that, just like we couldn't leave you either. The demon king played us all, Abby - we don't have to be fighting each other all the time."

He nodded again, his eyes darting a little as he clearly processed the information. Mystery shifted slightly behind him and a little alarm bell started going off in the back of Rumi's head, echoed by a warning thrum from her core. She ignored both.

"So, you saved us too?"

"Yes!" Rumi replied, reaching up and holding his arms (his huge, huge arms) gently. She was so glad that he understood - maybe they wouldn't have to actually fight them this time. "Look, I know it would be easy to assume we have to be enemies but Gwi-Ma's gone, now, isn't he? You can't hear him, right? Doesn't that mean you can be free of him? Maybe this could be your second chance."

He properly cocked his head then, eyes widening with that faraway look on his face that betrayed his internal search for Gwi-Ma's voice. The shock when he couldn't was muted but genuine, his eyes immediately darting to Romance. Something like a muffled sob came from behind him and Rumi's fingers itched to reach for Mystery, too.

As Abby looked back down at her, his hands came to rest tentatively on her waist, holding her hips - she couldn't tell if he wanted her closer or further away. His face opened, something young and vulnerable in it.

"You're right." he said softly. Rumi nodded, lifting a hand to cup his cheek.

"I know it's a lot." she said, letting her compassion show on her face. This was the right thing to do, she was sure of it. She wouldn't lose him - she wouldn't lose any of them. His breath came in a little start and he nuzzled his face into her palm, holding her gaze. He looked so very scared as he looked down on her.

"So," he started, sounding nervous. He looked away from her like he couldn't hold her gaze and she reached up with her other hand, cupping his face fully and turning him back to look at her. The movement brought her body closer, almost touching. He bit his lip and she smiled at him encouragingly.

"What did you want to ask, Abby?" she asked, her voice barely a whisper. He nodded like he was gathering the courage to speak and turned his head again so his breath tickled the soft skin of her wrist.

"So…is all this crap how you 'saved' Jinu?"

His voice didn't change, still so quiet and unsure, but his face hardened into something full of hate as Rumi felt his words hit something deep and hurting like a boulder hurled into a lake. It took a second for her to react, ripples of shock radiating out until her fingers trembled. All her attempts to hold herself together crumbled in an instant.

He took the opportunity to bite her wrist. Hard. And didn't let go.

There was a beat of utter stillness as she looked him, shock written all over her face. Somehow, with basically her entire wrist in his mouth, he managed to smirk at her. Then she screamed and everything descended into chaos. Demon teeth or no, he had incredible jaw strength - Rumi was pretty sure she ended up with both feet on his chest trying to pry her hand away at one point, possibly at the same time that Mira was yelling wordlessly and hitting him over the head with the shaft of her glaive. Zoey was trying everything from flicking his forehead to pinching his nose like you would a dog and Rumi was pretty sure she could hear Baby laughing in the background.

He only let go when she looked at him again, holding her gaze until he very deliberately opened his jaw, letting her know in a primitive, insultingly simple way that he had just allowed it. That she was only free because he had willed it. It was the simplest dominance tool in the book and she'd just fallen for it.

She felt the girls pull her back but couldn't break his gaze.

"Rumi, are you ok? We should get it purified - I don't have the Pure Water with me!"

"How can you not have the Pure Water on you, Zoey!?"

"I'm in my damn pyjamas, Mira - I'm sorry I don't keep the Pure Water in the crack of my ass cheeks."

"Gross, but fair. Is it bleeding?"

"I don't think so, his teeth are just blunt now."

"God he could have taken her wrist off if he'd had the full demon set."

"Don't think about it - should I try and recite a prayer or something!?"

She let them bicker, feeling the warmth of infection bloom, weak at her wrist. They'd all been wounded from demons before and she knew that the infection should spread fast. This, however, was a pale comparison. Something like outrage thrummed primal in her veins and as she took in Abby's sullen, accusatory gaze she let it infuse her. She knew her patterns lit up from Mira and Zoey's gasps into silence and she felt her own demon heat flood through her body, wiping away the potential infection from his bite like so much dust in the wind. She watched his eyes dart over her and his smirk widened.

"Well there it fucking is, huh? His fucking saviour all covered in her own patterns."

She swallowed, completely unready to have this conversation. It occurred to her in a shivery rush from her head to her toes just how kind Zoey and Mira had been in allowing her not to talk about Him.

"He made his own choices, Abby."

"Oh did he? Because I know the taste of his choices, Miss Hunter - and that wasn't like any fucking one of them."

"Stop swearing at me."

"No. So come on, was I right? Did you cup his face gently and tell him he was worth something?"

"Are you insulting him or me?"

"Oh no, wait - you took him to bed, right? Wrapped those pretty legs around him and promised him everything if he did what you wanted? How very demon of you."

"How dare…we never…"

He took a step forward, clearly seeing how he'd cracked her and pushing his advantage.

"Oh, you never? Were you waiting for when he was 'saved' enough to be yours? When you'd erased everything you didn't like, made him fucking palatable for you?"

"Stop it!" she finally shouted back, this hitting the nerve that let her fight back. Mira and Zoey were shadows at her sides but let her take a step towards him. This was her fight and they weren't going to jump in until she asked or they felt they had to. "I was fighting for him to keep everything about himself he thought made him worthless, make him see how precious…"

"And who the fuck were you to tell him what to do with himself!?"

He got closer and she stepped up to him, refusing to let him loom and not caring if it was childish. If she had to get into a pissing contest with a demon, she'd damn well win. Even if did only came up to his damn nipples. Well, he wasn't the biggest thing she'd ever tangled with - height was relative in a dick measuring context.

"I didn't tell him what to do - I gave him opportunities he hadn't thought of for himself and left the rest to him - I didn't make him do a damn thing."

"Right, apart from the fact that you knew fucking well you held all the cards."

"How exactly did I…?"

"And are you going to argue that if you hadn't fucking 'saved' him that he'd be worse off than he is now?"

"You know what his deal with Gwi-Ma was, right? He said he made it in front of everyone. Do you honestly think there would be anything left of him after those memories were gone - they made him who he was…"

"At least he'd be fucking alive!" Abby yelled, directly in her face and loud enough she heard the thread of grief in his rage like it was her own. It hit her like a train. "I don't give a shit who he'd become - I don't even care if he forgot every single one of us - I'd make him remember or start all over fucking again if I had to! He'd be alive!"

"That's not…I don't…"

He leapt on her hesitation.

"Did you know that he hadn't even been up to the mortal world since the damn 1800s? He hadn't even had a fucking soda pop 'till we brought him up here. Do you know what his face looked like when he experienced bubbles for the first time!? Huh? Well you don't need to worry, cos he'll never do it again now. He's been 'saved'."

"Stop it…"

"He'll never eat hot pot, or sit in a city coffee shop and torment salary-men, or watch the fireflies at night at the river. But that's fine, right? That's a good thing, because he's 'saved' now."

Rumi took a breath to say something, anything to refute him, but her breath caught in her throat and threatened to come out in a sob. She caught it but he saw and, by the curl of his lip and expression of pure disgust, thought even less of her than he did before. She couldn't breathe, overwhelmed by the tsunami of emotions that crashed into her on the wave of her grief, finding every crack in her armour she thought she'd patched up and ripping apart the fragile tape and glue she'd used. It all threatened to burst out and she clenched her eyes shut, curled her hands into fists and clamped her jaw closed to stop it, to hold it in. It felt like she was doing it with frayed thread.

She felt a feverish heat at the front of her body and his voice, when it came next, was close enough to her ear it sounded like it came from inside her. If there were tears in his voice he'd clearly embraced them and in this moment it felt like a strength she'd never have. "So forgive me, Miss Hunter, if I'm not too keen on your idea of 'salvation'. And if you dare try and 'save' any of my boys, I"ll…"

"You want to take a step back now."

Mira's voice was low and firm. Her body, as she angled it between them, was calm and solid. The edges of Rumi's control slipped, the urge to fall into those arms so strong it crawled up her throat and threatened to choke her. She swallowed desperately against it, taking a step back. She couldn't ask that of Mira, not for this. She needed to be strong, needed to not let herself burden them with all her baggage they never asked for. Voices and feelings, familiar and strengthened over years of habit, rose through that grief and she didn't have it in her to stop them.

Just for now, though, she let Mira take the lead, taking the opportunity of the focus being off her to start breathing slow and deep. She vaguely heard Mira and Abby arguing but the heat was out of his voice, replaced by a stubborn sullenness that was nothing like the jagged blades from before.

"Rumi?"

Zoey's voice was quiet and kind and far too much for her to handle right now. She reached out, clutching at the first bit of Zoey she could find and holding her away from her those precious few inches she needed to hold herself together.

"I'm ok, Zoey."

"No, you're not."

"Ok, no I'm not, but I will be. I just need a minute."

"You don't need to take a minute, Rumi, you…"

"I just need a minute, Zoey. I just need a minute. Please."

She all but heard Zoey's lips clamp together in that thin, disappointed line that proved Rumi right - how could she ask them to worry about her this way? Selfish, selfish to want to lay this burden on them. After everything they'd forgiven, after they'd taken her back, how could she be so self-centred as to ask them to hold this, too? "I just need a minute. I just need a minute."

She said it like a mantra and felt Zoey rest her hand gently on her own.

"Ok Rumi." she said sadly. Anger lashed out from the grief at Rumi's own insides. Hideous, heinous to put that sadness in Zoey's voice. How could you, you of all people who's very existence needs tolerating - you'd ask this of them as well? The voice threatened to drown her and, despite hating herself for it, she focussed on the cold balm of Zoey's skin to ground her, let Zoey slip her hand down Rumi's arm to tangle their fingers together, pressing their palms together. Strength flowed from that press and Rumi, craven thing that she was, let it.

Every breath was the only breath she needed to get through. Then the next, then the next. Every swallow was more of the feelings pushed down from her throat, giving her space in her head. Every second she kept standing was another victory. She grasped at her senses, remembering her training - the rush of the leaves in the trees around her became a background to the voices until it started, ever so slowly, drowning them out. The smell of tarmac and night air grounded her in this moment, just this moment. Another breath. The light of the street lamp that pressed against her closed eyelids until she opened them, blinking in the artificial beams, cut through the clouds in her mind. The feel of Zoey's hand in hers, real where other sensations were just in her head. Another breath.

It felt like hours, but was probably barely minutes, until she let that final breath out that left her feel contained again. She looked over at Zoey and smiled, hoping she could see through Rumi's expression how grateful she was. Zoey smiled back, but it was weak and seemed kind of sad. Rumi would have to ask her about that later. Perhaps she was just tired.

By the time she focussed back in on what Mira was doing the shame of being off her guard was hot on her neck. Looking around, however, the only person looking at her was Romance propped up against a lamppost, alone. His head was cocked, his expression assessing and she shivered with another hot flash of humiliation. However, once he'd realised that her gaze had once again focussed in on the present he merely shrugged, wincing at the pain immediately afterwards.

"Where's Baby?" Zoey asked him from next to Rumi, whilst Rumi was still trying to remember how her mouth worked to ask the same question.

"He's gone." Romance said softly. "Took off after it became clear that you're going to have two more guests in your Snug tonight. Our Baby will not be caged."

Zoey and Rumi shared a look, checked to see if Mira had things in hand and then tightened their hold on each other. Rumi, her whole soul feeling tired, nevertheless started humming quietly, feeling Zoey's strength beneath her voice, through it, spreading outwards.

Nothing.

She frowned, her expression mirrored on Zoey's face. They tried again, Rumi humming a little louder and sending herself out through the honmoon alongside Zoey. It was nowhere near as powerful a search as when they'd all sung together on top of the tower, but it should have, at the very least, indicated a direction a demon of Baby's power might have gone.

Still nothing.

"Guys?" Mira asked from behind them. Rumi turned, hating how she avoided looking at Abby. Coward. "Everything ok?"

"Yeah," Rumi answered habitually. Zoey cast her a look.

"Well, no." She responded instead, squeezing Rumi's hand. "We were just seeing if we could sense where Baby went. But nothing."

"Nice." Abby stated, chuckling. Mira elbowed him in his stomach. Gently, given that Abby wasn't immediately gasping for air on the floor. He did make a satisfying 'oof' sound, though.

"Well, it's not ideal," she replied. "But we're all tired, maybe we can try again together tomorrow once we've all got some rest. And received medical attention." She added, looking at the both of them pointedly. Rumi saw Zoey grimace beside her but held up her own wrist. There was nothing but faint bruises where Abby had bitten her.

"Apparently he's not demon enough for me these days." she said, with all the bravado she didn't feel. He huffed, unphased.

"Whatever. So, are we going or what?"

Rumi looked over at Mira, who rolled her eyes.

"We can't let Romance just wander around as powerful as he is."

"I do feel ever so powerful right now - it's all in the shattered nature of my right knee. And my left knee I think."

Mira coughed pointedly and Romance looked up at her with big eyes and a bloody smile. "Apologies."

"Are you or are you not already way less broken than when you got to the stadium?"

"Well, perhaps a little less broken…"

"Ok then - so to reiterate - we can't let Romance just wander around once he's less broken. Abby and Mystery aren't about to leave him alone with us, so we're taking them all home."

She sounded and looked certain in herself, but Rumi knew her well enough to see that little question in her eyes, like she needed Rumi to confirm that she'd done the right thing. So Rumi smiled.

"The best option, I think." she said warmly. Strangely, given what had just happened, she believed it.

"Great," Abby drawled. "Now we're all on the same page I would like to get to a place where Romance bleeding all over the floor is your problem. M, you good to walk?"

Mystery didn't respond, but reached back to steady himself on the railing and pushed himself up. Abby waited until he was upright before nodding to himself and stalking over to Romance.

"How the hell is he striding around like he's onstage at a concert when Mystery can barely stand?" Zoey murmured resentfully at Rumi's shoulder. She shook her head.

"No idea. Not one. Is that Mira subtly offering her arm to Mystery, though?"

"…wow, yeah I think it is."

"You sound tired."

Zoey looked at her, a shadow passing behind her eyes nearly as obvious as the ones under them.

"Yeah. It's beginning to hurt a bit."

"A 'bit'? Give me your arm, let me help you."

"No, Rumi. It's ok. I can do it."

"I know you can do it, but you don't need to."

The look Zoey gave her was enigmatic, but something about it made Rumi feel exceedingly exposed. Then it was gone and Zoey was smiling at her tiredly, patting her arm.

"It's ok, really. Let's just go home."

She left Rumi's side and Rumi waited a moment, watching Abby bring Romance into his arms with a tenderness that was almost as shocking as his rage, some quiet words passing between them before he started walking, pressing a brief kiss to Romance's bloody forehead. Perhaps she was imagining it, but she could almost see Romance's body relax into Abby's chest as he was lifted, sinking into him the way Rumi knew she would if either of her girls embraced her right now. Yearning threatened to choke her again. Or perhaps those acid edges to the feeling meant that it was envy.

Zoey had moved in front of them to take the lead, lifting her phone from her pocket and opening the app for the nearest car hire. No way they were getting home without a ride this time. Rumi's sluggish mind couldn't figure out what was more conspicuous - the fact that they had three tattered members of the Saja Boys with them or that Huntrix were, to a woman, in their pyjamas.

Mira and Mystery were next, although he pulled away from her almost immediately, trotting past her to trail behind Abby, hooking thin fingers into the ruined remains of Abby's coat like a child following their parent. Mira came up beside her and they watched as Romance glanced back at him, resting his head on Abby's shoulder. Mystery reached up, brushing the back of his fingers over Romance's hair and making a distressed little sound as he walked, which made Romance smile, clearly exhausted.

"Wow we're so out of our depth." Mira said, flatly.

"Yup."

"You good?"

"Yeah."

"Wrong answer."

"Mira, I can't…"

"I know, I know. Don't lie to me, though. Remember that I was proved right about the whole 'you're hiding something from me' thing. My paranoia has now been officially validated."

Rumi couldn't help a small chuckle.

"Fair. Ok, he got me. I'm ok now, though. I just…"

"…needed a minute? Just a minute? Sure."

She leant over and kissed Rumi firmly on the top of her head, curling strong fingers around her wrist and pulling her forward. "Let's deal with the demons in the training room, then we are absolutely talking about it."

"Can we do it when I'm less tired?" Rumi asked.

"Nope." Mira replied. Rumi expected her to elaborate. She didn't.

She trailed behind her, letting Mira pull her forward with that clasp of her wrist. For a moment, as they started the downward journey to the nearest road, the four of them in front of her were lit in silhouette by a street lamp. Her feet, bare from where she'd thrown herself out of bed at Zoey's call, suddenly felt the chill of the tarmac like she'd only just stepped on it. The tableau of it went straight through her heart to her soul like the negative of an image imprinted on film.

For the first time since this whole thing started, she doubted herself. Yes, the changes to the honmoon and dealing with Romance had been tough, but at least she had felt like she had the strength to weather the storm and be there for her girls the way they needed her to be.

Now she wasn't so sure.

Chapter Text

Mira drove them back in the hire car. Honestly she was probably the only one who was fit to do so. After a tense little exchange with Zoey, who they'd bullied into sitting shotgun, Rumi was the one who called Hook. They usually made it a point of pride not to need him, but despite Zoey protesting that her injury was already feeling way better and wanting to wait until they got home, neither Rumi nor Mira were about to take the chance. As usual, the old battleaxe waved off Rumi's attempts to apologise for waking him and there was something comfortingly familiar in the way he scolded her. It immediately put her in mind of a tired old drill sergeant, which made sense - they all knew very little about the man allocated to be their emergency doctor other than he had a more than passing knowledge of North Korean daily life, military training and considered himself to have a life debt to Celine.

After she put the phone down, Hook on his way, Rumi glanced over at Romance. He was wrapped up in what was left of Abby's coat, cradled in Abby's lap beside her and looked like he was asleep. She only looked up at Abby when she felt him glaring at her, his arms tightening around Romance slightly. His voice, when it came, was at least quiet, although no less decided.

"No Hunter doctor is touching him. He'll heal on his own damn strength."

Rumi wanted to say that she hadn't been offering Hook to look at Romance (which she had). She wanted to say that such machismo self-reliant bullshit was stupid (which it was, but she knew she was guilty of it, too). She wanted to justify herself again, reopen the argument that she should be afraid of right now, but she didn't. She might not always be the best at knowing herself, but she could recognise that she only wanted to start to argue again because there was something in his accusations that hurt in way that felt good. Good, but not healthy. Like she finally didn't need to be the one to beat herself up for what happened that night, someone else could finally do it for her. She was pretty sure that wasn't something to give in to.

So she pinched her lips together and sighed, looking away from him and trying not notice the way Mystery had folded himself into the foot-well at Abby's feet between his legs, head resting on Romance's hip and fingers of one hand gently stroking over Romance's knuckles. She was already feeling too many things she didn't understand, she didn't need to add her reaction to that to the mix.

Somehow, despite the awkwardness in the back of the car, it felt like no time at all before Mira was pulling into the underground car park. It was second nature for Rumi to get out first and meet the valet, steering him towards the office as she spoke about how she'd really appreciate it if he could leave the vehicle back out on the street ready for the next person, they were just so tired from an impromptu fan-signing. Meanwhile Mira, an injured Zoey and three members of the damn Saja Boys were making their way to the elevator that would take them straight up to the Snug floor, safely out of sight.

To say the trip up in the elevator was awkward would be an understatement. For the first time since living here Rumi desperately wished it played music. Romance even coughed gently into the silence. It was a slightly gurgling cough on account of there probably being blood still in his lungs, but a cough nonetheless. Could a lift trip take hours? It kind of felt like it.

To a demon, the boys flinched when they finally got up to the right floor, recoiling from what was apparently a glut of honmoon on the floor above. Abby started grumbling under his voice and there was something heartbreakingly familiar in the way that Romance patted his shoulder wearily, making little soothing sounds like he'd done it a thousand times before. Perhaps he had. Rumi certainly didn't know - she'd never found out anything about the boys other than they would apparently go along with anything He said. She felt that lack of knowledge keenly now. A stray thought cut across her mind before she could stop it: had Jinu not spoken about the boys because he didn't care about them? Or because he was protecting them? Which begged the question: was Abby's grief, something she now needed to carry as well, for a true friend and confidant or had he just been played like so many before him? She now either needed to carry the responsibility for ending what could be a centuries old friendship or pity a man for thinking he was loved when he hadn't been and now would never know. God she was tired.

They opened the door to the Snug and crowded in, something about the boys being here that cut through the usual warm familiarity of the place. Abby was all business, demanding to be told where they were going and stalking off down the hall the second Mira told him. He was impatient and provocative, everything that Rumi was fully expecting to set Mira off, but there was a strange acquiescence in her normally very contrary friend that seemed less out of character and more understanding. Mira knew what it was to try and take care of band-mates who refused to look after themselves - the fact that she was being so forgiving of Abby's attitude betrayed how much she empathized with it. He wouldn't let them downstairs, standing in the doorway at the top of the steps and demanding to know why the girls thought they had the right to come down with them, had they not said there was a kitchen and spare bed rolls, what more would they need? Rumi thought she saw Romance cast an apologetic glance at Mira before he passed out aesthetically on Abby's shoulder, but she couldn't be sure. All she knew was that the door closed behind the boys and she felt strangely like she'd been dismissed from her own damn house.

She took a breath in the silence, feeling Mira and Zoey do the same behind her. They looked at each other and took a step inwards, taking each other's hands in the lull - then Hook text them demanding to know why he was upstairs ready to perform triage and they weren't there. So much for a moment of peace, then.

The whole thing actually turned out to be a little embarrassing, Mira and Rumi standing shamefaced by the door whilst Zoey glared at them over Hook's shoulder. They couldn't even argue with her mouthed 'I told you so' after Hook started grumbling about how Celine should have taught them first aid and that he was old now so they should let him sleep for things like this. He'd started grouching the moment he had helped Zoey remove the over-sized T-shirt she was wearing, streaked with blood at her waist. They had long since got over being embarrassed to undress in front of him - apparently whilst his playboy days were not in fact behind him he preferred lovers whose age was within a decade of his own - when they'd looked bemused he'd started talking about the benefits of old age on sexual experience and they'd all unanimously decided that anything he said after that would Never Be Spoken Of Again. Plus there was the Ji-Min that he would mention now and again, whose gender he never specified. Intentionally, they'd decided - the man had a twinkle in his eye that could rival the north star at times.

Either way, the fact remained that the injuries that Mira had seen with her own eyes, that Rumi trusted her to report upon, no longer needed stitches. Not only that, but there was barely a wound to dress anymore, the scar tissue still pink and raw but definitely there. When Rumi caught sight of the wound she would have put it at a couple of weeks old at the very least.

They should have known it was all for show, to be honest. Once Hook had asked Zoey multiple times about signs for infection, natural or otherwise, and then dressed the wounds with silver mesh just to be sure, he turned to them all and indicated that Mira and Rumi should come and sit next to Zoey. They obeyed - one didn't disobey Hook, especially on his home turf. Which, incidentally, included any locale where he'd opened his medicine bag.

"Now," he started, bushy eyebrows dancing as he narrowed his eyes at them. They were a shockingly pale shade of brown and often looked like they glowed out of his face. They were also exceptionally effective at rooting out dishonesty. "Is there anything that you need to tell me? Before you dissemble, Mira-ya* called me sounding like the situation was dire and immediate and now I'm here looking after a wound weeks old? What is this?"

Rumi had been thinking about her answer, predicting that Hook wouldn't just accept this quietly. She had learned, through years of often pained experience, that honesty was the best road.

"We're interacting with the honmoon differently since Gwi-Ma's fall, seonnim*." she said quietly. "It's bringing us closer together, we think."

"And turns a net over the darkness into something healing? Sounds like there's more to tell me. Swords don't heal, ladies."

They were silent for a moment. It was Zoey who broke first.

"Well, it's not like we're just using swords. Rumi has a staff now, too."

Rumi glared at her, but Zoey just shrugged her shoulders. Hook hummed, thoughtfully.

"A staff? What kind of staff?"

Pierced by his gaze, Rumi told him. He seemed thoughtful at her answer.

"A Hunter wielding a seokjang?* Has there ever been such a thing?"

As Zoey asked what a seokjang was, Rumi inwardly kicked herself for not recognising it. How could she not have done? The rings at the top should have given it away - the staff she now wielded was no mere piece of wood but a sign of a monk on their travels, ready and willing to offer their services of healing and guidance to whomever they came across. A tool designed to scare off danger - better for something to flee than to risk conflict where a life may be taken, for all life is sacred. A sign of a traveller's desire to help ease hurts, a call to any who suffered that hope and salvation had come. It sounded pretty impressive when put in the language of myths and religious anecdote, but she wasn't sure what she was supposed to do with it or how it was in any way relevant when killing demons was her damn job.

Suspicions and rationales stirred weakly in answer, but honestly she was too bone-tired by the events of the evening to examine them now.

Hook left not long after, although not before running Zoey through some physical tests to see how she was. Nothing major, just lifting her arms, twisting and bending (she was pretty good at the first, less good at the latter). Then suddenly the door of their penthouse was closing behind them and they were left alone for the first time in what felt like days. Rumi was expecting it to feel like a relief, but as she watched Mira fluff the pillows behind Zoey's back on their bed in the master bedroom she felt the walls closing in again. The way she'd felt outside of the stadium reared up inside her like it was taking advantage of the first opportunity to do so and she pulled in a breath like the oxygen was slowly leaking from the room. It was a familiar feeling, as was the habit to immediately start formulating how to extract herself from them in a way that stopped them suspecting she was doing so. She had been trying to curb that habit recently but she'd had a really difficult night - she could start trying again tomorrow. Right now she needed to be alone with her emotions. Any argument to the contrary crumbled - surely indulging in sharing her emotions was for lesser things than this - nothing was a colder truth than the knowledge that whatever was inside her right now was not for sharing.

A supportive but bland smile crept onto her face and it felt like home. The cold dark of home you come back to after being away from it, but it was home nevertheless.

"I don't think we should stop Zoey resting regardless," she interjected when she found a moment to interject amidst their gentle bickering, "I'm happy to sleep in my room tonight. We're going to have to deal with the boys tomorrow and it's already nearly three, I think the best way to prepare is for us all to get some…"

"Nope."

Mira's attention was immediately focussed on her, her gaze arresting enough that it was easy for Rumi to ignore how Zoey had just gone very, very still. "I told you that we were going to talk about it."

"It hardly seems appropriate now, Mira." Rumi rebuffed, voice calm and perfectly reasonable. "It's not like I'm going anywhere, you can…"

"Nope, nope nope." Mira retorted. "You think I'm about to give you the time to pull yourself together and feed us bullshit tomorrow? This isn't nothing, Rumi, we need to talk about it."

"I already said that Abby got me, Mira, I'm not pretending otherwise." Rumi soothed. She honestly thought she was being very convincing. She knew that she herself was convinced and that was the hardest part, right? Right? "But there are more important things right now…"

"Don't use me as an excuse." Zoey interrupted as Rumi gestured towards her. "I'm fine, as I said I was."

"Yes but we're all tired, this hardly seems like the time."

"There's always a reason not to do this, Rumi." Mira said, kneeling back on one knee to turn to her fully. "I know it's hard, but…"

"It's not hard, Mira." Rumi argued. "God, the way I feel safe around the two of you is incredible and I will never, ever not be grateful for it. It's just that, right now, there are more important things. I'll sleep in my room tonight," she said again firmly, hoping that her voice was coming out calm and not betraying the slight desperation she felt about having some time to herself to pull herself together for them. She kept replaying Zoey's expressions tonight in her head and guilt stabbed her in the gut - she loved her so, so much and she'd already asked far too much of her.

"Rumi…"

"I'm not going to take no for an answer, Mira." Rumi said again, stronger now. "It's my job to make sure the two of you are safe and healthy…"

"Your 'job'…?"

"…And I'm going to do it. So get some rest and I'll see you for breakfast tomorrow, ok?"

She turned, feeling like she'd done pretty well at convincing them that she was fine. Honestly, all she wanted was to get to her room and collapse on the bed. She knew from experience that if she buried her face in a pillow that she could cry as loud as she want and they wouldn't be able to hear her and she knew that crying was a good thing to do, Celine had taught her that. Once she'd got that out of the way she could be good enough to be with them…

"You're doing it again."

Zoey's voice was quiet. And devastating. Rumi didn't know why. She really didn't, she kept telling herself. She didn't know why. Something deep and terrifying stirred under the thick fog she'd blanketed over her heart in an attempt to keep it in check until she was alone. She was pretty sure her fingers had just started trembling.

"Doing what, Zoey?" she asked, bracing herself and turning round. She wished she hadn't - Zoey was sitting against the army of cushions, bunched up in a duvet that made her seem very, very small. Small and hurting, the same hurt Rumi had seen on her face all night. And angry, she realized as Zoey looked up from her clenched hands, dark eyes narrowed. Definitely angry.

"Keeping yourself from us. Like before. You're doing it again."

Her words struck something sonorous and unravelling in Rumi's stomach. In the short number of seconds it had taken Zoey to speak she was all of a sudden scrambling for control. Like Zoey had just unmoored her into that fog, now beginning to swirl like a sea before a storm hits.

"I'm not," she retorted, taking a step forward and forcing every emotional muscle she had to believe it. "I'm not, Zoey, it's just that…"

"It's just that it's not important, or that you don't want to worry us, or that you want to make sure you're here for us. I know, Rumi. Those were the excuses you used before."

The wound that Abby had made gaped, sudden and unstoppable. There was a lump in Rumi's throat and she didn't know why - she was in control of this conversation, she didn't feel the same way as before, she was better now, why was there…

She shook her head and opened her mouth to speak. It took her a couple of times but that was ok, she knew she could play this off. Her mouth was really dry for some reason.

"It's not like before, Zoey. I promise you, it's not. How could it be, after everything you and Mira have accepted? I wouldn't…I couldn't keep you…"

"But you are, Rumi." Zoey said again, her quiet calmness dismantling every defence structure Rumi thought she had. She spoke to Rumi like Rumi was a child, like she was gently trying to lift a veil Rumi wanted to nail to the damn floor. "It's ok, you're within your rights to have your own space but…"

Zoey took her own breath and Rumi's heart broke. She knew that breath, that rally to say something that scared her. She knew what it took for Zoey to do it, recognised it as a sign that Zoey was about to set a boundary. A precious, fought for boundary that Rumi would always, always feel humbled to receive. It had taken her and Mira so long to teach Zoey that she had the right to set her own boundaries, every single one was a thing of beauty. And yet, a part of her trembled. The part of her fed by dreams of dark backstage confrontations and glowing weapons set against her. Her intellectual mind knew that this was just a boundary, but it felt like Zoey was re-opening every potential for Rumi to be abandoned she'd ever feared.

"It's ok, Zoey." she heard herself say. Her voice didn't sound like her own. "Say what you need to say. It's ok."

She watched as Mira rested one knee on the bed and laid a hand on Zoey's, not looking away from Rumi. The part of her that knew that she was about to be abandoned rose like quicksand up her throat and she fought against it. She really wanted to listen to Zoey, really wanted to hear her past the roaring growing in her ears.

"It really sucked, Rumi. Before." Zoey said, the tears in her voice not taking any of her quiet strength away. "And…and not because we don't all have the right to share or not share what we want, but I'd give you anything…"

Her voice broke on the last word and her eyes were deep and wet with tears when she looked up. "Like with Romance in that car park, I'd give you anything, Rumi. And I feel like you wouldn't with me. With either of us. I know it's hard," she continued, clearly seeing Rumi's face drop (she should have controlled her face better). "I know it's hard, but we really do want all of you. I don't want to speak for Mira, but I want all of it."

"You're getting all of it." Rumi replied, jumping on the first thing she could. She didn't have it in her to comprehend that Zoey was worried that Rumi was abandoning them, not the other way round. It joined the growing white noise. Zoey shook her head.

"No we're not, Rumi. We're still getting what you think is acceptable, what you decide is good enough for us. You don't get over losing someone you care about in a week, Rumi. Especially not with everything else you were going through."

Grief crashed into the tattered remnants of her control and the storm got closer, freezing her in place in the face of it even as it felt like it rushed from the top of her head to her fingers and toes. Rumi knew she was standing awkwardly, one foot in front of the other like she was about to approach the bed, mouth half open in a retort that was dying a slow death on her tongue. She wasn't ready for it. "You don't." Zoey continued, gently relentless. "And you have the right to grieve how you like, I don't want to force you into anything, but you pretending that you're fine? I can't do that again, Rumi. You and Mira, you…"

She wiped away the tears falling down her cheeks with the back of her hands. The action was hurried and frustrated, like Zoey couldn't stand not being able to talk. Through the deafening beat of her own heart in her ears, Rumi felt absurdly offended that Zoey was treating her tears with such disrespect. She wanted to kiss every one, soothe the ravages of the salt water on the soft skin of Zoey's cheek. God she wanted Zoey to never cry again. "You and Mira," Zoey continued, "You taught me that it was ok to expect things of the people I love - that if I'm prepared to give everything that I should check that they're willing to match me. And I thought you were…"

"I am, I am." Rumi replied, instinctive, desperate. The words came out of her and she didn't even need to think about them. It felt hideously vulnerable - un-curated, uncontrolled. She hadn't even checked in with herself whether she thought Zoey would appreciate it, the words had just forced themselves from her mouth.

"I know you say you are, Rumi." Zoey replied. Swaddled in their bed, she'd never looked so commanding. "But I'm not seeing it. You hide from us, you say what you think we want to hear - we want all of you, you know. Surely we proved that at Namsan. I know we failed you at the Awards, we weren't ready, but after? We want all of you, Rumi. Even the parts you think are ugly."

Rumi couldn't reply. She couldn't do anything. Couldn't speak, couldn't move. She had one hand resting on the bed where she'd nearly crawled onto it and she should be feeling the strain in her core from holding herself up. She didn't. She didn't feel anything at all. Yet at the same time, there was an ocean's tsunami just behind that fog that was so inevitable she couldn't muster fear of it any more. How was it still looming when it also felt like it was already here? Mira moved and her gaze darted over to her - even to herself she felt like a frightened animal. Her breath dragged in like she'd been holding it. Perhaps she had.

"Do you remember, Rumi?" Mira asked, her low voice a balm that allowed that sliver of breath to reach Rumi's starving lungs. "Do you remember when you finally got through to me that I was safe with you two?"

Memories crowded in amongst the ones already doing cartwheels around her mind - Mira angry, fighting her, losing and crying and kissing and fucking and holding. Just holding Mira between her and Zoey, squeezing themselves together so that Mira wouldn't be able to find a part of her not held.

Numbly, she nodded. Mira nodded back, standing and gently taking a step forward. Rumi watched her move like she would a demon stalking her. "Great. And do you remember how that one night changed me forever? How I never doubted it? How you and Zoey didn't have to keep trying, again and again, to remind me that it wasn't a fluke? How after that it was the easiest thing in the world to expose myself to you after that, to let you in? Do you remember that?"

Rumi, just as Mira obviously intended, remembered no such thing. She remembered her and Zoey's concerted effort, constant reminders, more fights and more furious love-making so that the three of them were covered in more bruises than they were after most training sessions. She remembered family visits and shouting that was awful and silences that were worse. She remembered waking up one day to find Zoey beaming at her from over Mira's head. Mira, who had started the night in a different room but had at some point crawled into bed between the two of them. Of her own volition. She remembered smiling back at Zoey so hard that at some point they both started crying and, when Mira woke up and started grumbling, remembered kissing her so comprehensively she couldn't taste the salt of her own tears anymore.

Deep underneath it all, exposed before her lovers in a way she could no longer deny, she saw her own envy with sudden clarity. Envy like a cancer, hiding in her like it wasn't there, allowing her to be genuinely happy that her dear friend was accepting her love whilst all the while feeding the knowledge that such a thing wasn't for her. Would never be for her. And that would have been fine if it weren't for that envy, that little bleed of poison into that happiness. Silent and yet somehow also ruining everything.

It was paralysing. These memories, this feeling, this guilt, this desire to be anything for them, everything for them, caught now in this paralysis because she didn't have it in her to figure out what they wanted, what they needed from her right now. She didn't know what to be.

Mira moved again and, this time, Rumi could only move her eyes. She felt caught - both screaming to move and completely unable to. When Mira started speaking again it was like there was nothing in the world but her voice. She felt so, so naked. The storm inside her reared up, held at bay by Mira's voice whilst somehow also waiting for her to release it.

"These lessons don't resolve after one time, Rumi. You don't just learn them after one time. It would be so nice, right? "I've done it once so I can do it again." But it doesn't work like that. It's ok."

It's ok. It's ok. Mira had said it was ok. But there was something she didn't know, something Rumi needed to tell her. She took a breath to do so and felt it catching in her chest, dragging reluctant up her throat in a sound like she was drowning.

"I don't…" she stammered, "I don't know…I don't…"

Mira was coming closer again and everything inside her pooled in her throat. She couldn't speak, she couldn't move…"I don't…I don't know how to do this…I don't know…how…"

The admission clogged her throat and suddenly she couldn't breathe. It was all the storm needed - it broke over her and the last part of her that was defiant yelled its last scream of denial inside her.

Paralysis turned to immediate, blinding, frustrated rage and she'd started punching the bedspread before she could control her arm, desperate for any way to get this feeling out of her before it took her over completely. Her hand was caught by Mira and that was worse - she was warm and strong and pulling Rumi towards her and every inch she got closer was less control Rumi had.

"It's ok." Mira said again, soft and strong against Rumi's temple. "There is no 'how'. It's ok. Breathe for me, darling."

"But…" Rumi stuttered again, holding herself away and looking at Zoey for relief. Zoey, who was just beginning to crawl towards her. She'd known, Rumi remembered, at the stadium Zoey had known. "But I…I can't…I…"

"You what, Rumi?" Zoey asked her, getting close enough to slide cool fingers over Rumi's burning cheeks.

"I loved him." Rumi blurted. It felt like the damn had broken and suddenly she was burbling. "I loved him. Not just….it wasn't just romantic I don't know how to explain…I don't even know myself…but I did and I can't and I don't want to hurt you and I love you but I loved him and we haven't…we haven't done this before, the three of us and…I don't want to hurt you and I…."

It came out in a rush and she was so disappointed, so unhappy with how it was finally being said. In her secret fantasies she'd imagined having this conversation and she was always so much more eloquent, so much more able to describe exactly how she was feeling. How exactly, a new and strident voice said, she could explain herself whilst justifying her position to them. Which was exactly what her lovers were telling her she didn't have to do.

Zoey crowded her, Mira at her back. That new voice got louder with the press of their bodies.

"We know, Rumi." Zoey was saying, cradling Rumi's face and pressing their foreheads together. "We know."

"But we haven't…."

"…done this before. No, we haven't. And honestly maybe it could have been done better, without all the lies and secrecy and stuff. But that doesn't change the fact that you loved him and it doesn't change the fact that we know. That he could give you something we couldn't, or you wouldn't let us, but we won't know until you tell us, Rumi! "

"You say you don't even know yourself," Mira added, so softly against Rumi's hair. "So let us help you figure it out. Take us on that journey with you. We want to go with you."

Rumi dissolved. She knew that she was speaking, repeating over and over that she loved them, that she didn't want to hurt them, she loved him, she hated him, she just wanted to repay them for taking her back because she didn't deserve it, she didn't deserve it…

Everything that had been crammed back in the box, sitting there for so long it could no longer just come out in bits, rushed out of her all at once like a torrent. She couldn't tell if her body was shaking or rigid in place, couldn't tell if she couldn't breathe or was breathing so hard the oxygen was making her dizzy. There was not one part of her she was in control of.

She felt them sandwich her, working together to press her between their bodies, Zoey's lips kissing every part of Rumi's face she could reach and Mira's strong, unrelenting hand in her hair, keeping her pressed between them, solid arm at her waist, holding her still and firm against them both. Rumi grabbed onto this stillness like a life raft in this now tempestuous sea. She was falling apart and they were…there. They were there and they were catching the pieces and she hadn't thought that was possible before. Only the thought was too much to handle and so she let it fade into the background of noise. Closed her eyes and let them hold her, follow every instruction they gave - to breathe, to drop her shoulders, lean into them, just breathe.

They held her and she cried and they cried and the space between them was hot and wet with tears. She fell apart in their arms and they, in defiance of everything she had ever known, treated her breaking like the most precious of gifts.

She loved them. She loved them. She loved them.

Chapter Text

She was floating again. This darkness, threaded with warm light, was more full than it had been before. It was habit these days to reach for what she knew was out there through the new taste of this place, like treacle and caramel. So she reached out. What she felt in response was tired. Tired and happy and bittersweet and yearning. It rebuffed her, so tenderly it made tears prick at the corners of her eyes. She heard it like it was talking and the warmth of her surroundings reared up, suffocating in a way that made her arch and stretch, like as it smothered her it offered her freedom and pleasure and love. So, so much love. But she was so accustomed to reaching for what she couldn't find, she didn't know how to stop. Sensation covered those parts of her that reached, pushed her back gently, so gently.

This wasn't she wanted, it seemed to say. This wasn't what she needed. The thoughts weren't hers but they bloomed in her mind like they were.

It was ok, it had been waiting for this. It had been worried that she wouldn't figure it out. It was ok. She needed to wake up now.

A phantom kiss to her temple, a squeeze of pressure to her hand.

Wake up, Rumi.

They're right there.

Wake up.

It took her a few moments to orient herself. The mattress dipped under her body, cradling it. The duvet was soft and tucked around her chin. There were bodies around her, feelings of flannel and cotton and skin pressed against her legs and her hips and her arms. The air around her was wonderfully heavy with the breath of three people and, as her eyes opened, shafts of moonlight cast the face in front of her in a sharpness that made it even more lovely than it had been under the soft glow of the night light.

Rumi watched as her breath made Zoey's eyelashes tremble slightly and her insides ached with how beautiful she was - even in the darkness of this night, with the lights of the city dimmed by the curtains, she could have traced Zoey's face like they were in bright sunshine. She wanted to run her fingers over that pale forehead, brush back those dark strands of hair. She just didn't want to move her arm from where it draped over Zoey's waist, caught in the dark heat of the duvet. She tensed suddenly as memories of the evening resurfaced, afraid she was hurting her injury, but all that did was make Zoey shift a little, a fleeting frown creasing her dark eyebrows as her body wiggled closer, leg shifting between Rumi's, caught under Mira's. They were a tangle, a messy, soft, beautiful tangle.

The cold, jagged edges of her feelings before they'd gone to bed roused in the back of Rumi's mind - slow and lumbering like the kraken from the deep. She wasn't afraid, though - they were exhausted, their edges dulled, their weight lurching forward only to hit the soft bastion of sleep and affection. Their flashes of doubt, torn from that place inside her like a last hurrah, met solid memories of arms around her, kisses on her hair, her face. Low voices: it's ok, we love you, I love you, we're in this together. It's ok. Thank you, thank you, you're doing the right thing. Come here. It's ok. You're ok.

The ink stain of that fear on her soul dissolved like the memories of Zoey and Mira had poured warm water on it, sweeping it away with hardly any effort. It left her shivering, a shudder going through her body that had nothing to do with the cold. She felt a little hitch of breath in her chest, like it was remembering when it could only drag in shallow breaths and shifted so her forehead rested over so gently on Zoey's. She closed her eyes and inhaled through her nose, slow and deep, breathing her in. It was a couple of breaths before she noticed that Zoey's hand had shifted from where it had been tucked into her chest to rest gently on Rumi's neck, her thumb brushing the bottom of Rumi's jaw with a tender, soothing movement that threatened to make Rumi cry. Her eyes were tight and dry - she didn't know if she had any tears left.

Zoey was looking up at her when she opened her eyes, pulling back a little bit so she could see her face. Zoey's hand tightened gently, not letting her go too far. Her eyes were deep and soft with sleep.

"Are you ok?" she whispered, the breath against Rumi's face making her voice immediately intimate. Rumi smiled weakly, going to nod before looking back at her, letting her smile turn self-deprecating.

"Pretty much," she whispered back. "A little raw I guess."

Zoey huffed.

"I'm not surprised. That was a hell of thing you just did, Rumi. Did I mention how proud of you I was?"

Memories of Zoey's lips leaving butterfly kisses all over Rumi's face, wet from Zoey's own tears and her own repeating over and over again, one time for each kiss. Rumi's smile went crooked.

"You know, you might just have mentioned it, yeah."

Zoey giggled quietly. Rumi closed the bare inch between them to kiss her lightly on the nose. "Probably about as many times as I told you how grateful I was? I think I remember mentioning that."

"Until I got worried your speech centre had got stuck, yeah." Zoey replied, her nose scrunching a little. She leaned forward, itching it on Rumi's shoulder. "How are you feeling?"

"Tired." Rumi replied honestly. Zoey's thumb was brushing her jaw again, gentle pressure on her neck shifting slowly from tickly to grounding. "I'm not quite sure what to do now, if I'm honest."

"Nothing." Zoey replied immediately, snuggling a little closer and closing her eyes. The rise of her thigh nuzzled naturally into the hot apex of Rumi's legs. "Apart from sleep and take care of yourself tomorrow. Seriously, the bags under your eyes could carry Mira's shopping after a visit to Cheongdam - let's have a skincare day."

"And there's your eye bags completely absent as usual." Rumi grumbled. Zoey grinned, leaning forward and nipping the bottom of Rumi's jaw. The sensation seemed to collect every tingle and softness from around her body - Zoey's waist under her arm, leg between her thighs, hand on her neck - and bring it together to flash like a bolt from the sting at her jaw to her core.

She only realized she'd frozen when Zoey's eyes blinked open, flitting from Rumi's face, to where her hand lay on Rumi's neck, to Rumi's chest where her breath had started stuttering. When she looked back up at Rumi there was a lazy heat in her eyes and a twitch at the corner of her mouth.

"Unless," she whispered, curling her fingers so Rumi's body shuddered from that hand at her neck to her toes. "…there's something else you'd like to do?"

"Would it be inappropriate?" Rumi asked, tightening her hold on Zoey's waist and around her back so their bodies pulled flush.

"Was it inappropriate when I wanted to pull you down to the carpet before, even though you were crying? Just to prove to you and us that you're ours?" Zoey fired back, raising her chin like she was daring Rumi to kiss her. The idea of it, of Zoey and Mira taking what was theirs, made something feral and familiar ripple inside Rumi's chest, threatening to rise out of her throat. She pushed it down but met Zoey's dare, brushing her lips over Zoey's with a feather touch, leaning back afterwards. She grinned at Zoey's slightly outraged expression. "That it?"

Rumi's next kiss was firmer, pressing her lips against Zoey's to rock her head back into Rumi's hand, raised from Zoey's waist to tangle in Zoey's hair. The next was cheekier, a whisper of Rumi's tongue swiping over Zoey's bottom lip. The third was intended to be similar, only Zoey hooked her hand round Rumi's nape and wouldn't let her go, opening her mouth and deepening the kiss so Rumi had to turn the growl that threatened to escape from her chest into a grunt, squeezing her thighs together around Zoey's leg. It canted her hips forward, pressed her thigh firmly between Zoey's legs and Zoey rippled against her, slow and breathless, the slightest tremor of her fingers betraying that, if Rumi was reading her right (and she'd committed to learning Zoey's body the second Zoey had let her) that Zoey could get just as lost in this as she was. It wasn't enough all of a sudden - those memories of being caught between the two of them, held and loved - it wasn't enough. The hole her fear had left in her needed filling and the wet heat of Zoey's mouth, press of her body against Rumi's, stutter of her breath as Rumi dragged her mouth down to Zoey's jaw seemed to drip-feed into that space. Rumi grabbed for it like a parched woman in the desert.

Zoey's skin was warm from sleep - Rumi could spend the night with her nose buried in the crook of that pale neck, breathing her in and revelling in the scent of her. Only doing that also put her mouth close to that skin and if there was a way to resist kissing it, running her tongue over it, nipping it to make Zoey jump only to place teeth to neck and press, holding so Zoey knew it was Rumi's choice not bite down and make her squirm and arch before Rumi was ready, then Rumi hadn't found it. So she slid her other arm under Zoey's body, swapping with her free arm so she could drag nails down Zoey's back to her waist. Rumi would never get used to that juxtaposition, how the same position could have such different meaning in the space of a few minutes. It was almost too heady for her to handle. She grinned against Zoey's collar bone. The whole point was that she didn't need to 'handle it' though, right? Because what did 'handle' mean other than Rumi being able to control herself? What if she couldn't 'handle' it? Honestly, what if? Who would die? Fucking no one.

The thought spread from her heart to her chest and Zoey, all of a sudden, was wearing entirely too much. Genuinely and imperatively - if Rumi didn't have her naked against her approximately yesterday someone might actually die. The feeling bumped up against the familiar barrier of 'what if it's inappropriate'? She let it ride over it like she planned on making Zoey…oh.

She made the executive decision that Zoey and Mira wouldn't mind her keeping her desire to have a plan at this moment. She was the leader after all.

Zoey made gorgeous little breathless huffs of laughter as Rumi divested her of her clothing. In record speed, she figured. She had the presence of mind to make sure that she raised Zoey's arms gently, not wanting to aggravate the wound, but then that oversized T-shirt was over Zoey's head, revealing the most prefect breasts Rumi had ever seen. Apart from the breasts she knew were sleeping inches away, which were also perfect. Both were perfect.

She felt drunk and decided she didn't care.

She took the time to slow down as she shifted above Zoey, leaning back to tuck the duvet tenderly around the still sleeping Mira. Zoey was looking at her with so much affection Rumi couldn't stand it when she turned back, so she leant down and captured her mouth in a kiss as she swung a leg over Zoey's legs, hooking her fingers under Zoey's loose shorts and pulling them a few inches down before stopping and pulling back bare centimetres from Zoey's mouth. She let Zoey's gaze focus on hers as she held the waistband, pressed it against Zoey's lower stomach and only when Zoey's hands fluttered to her shoulders did she start dragging it torturously down Zoey's thighs. Zoey lifted her head to kiss her, Rumi pulled away and smirked as Zoey canted her head back against the pillow instead, her hips rising and rolling as Rumi pulled her shorts off like she was already riding Rumi's tongue. Rumi didn't know if her mouth dried with yearning or flooded in preparation at the thought. Both, she thought slightly deliriously. Both.

She shimmied down the bed, holding Zoey's gaze as she wrapped gentle fingers around her ankles, lifting them so she could take the shorts off. She reached up after dropping them on the floor, wrapping her hands around both of Zoey's calves and using just that little bit of pressure to keep Zoey's legs together from where they threatened to fall apart in a triangle, making that diamond shape that left where Zoey clearly wanted her most open and waiting. Not yet. Rumi wanted, with an empathic desperation she felt radiating within her own core, to keep that tight, protected feeling of pressing one's legs together as long as possible. That fake feeling of containment that is only as delicious as it is because you know that either you or lover is about to shatter it with the spread of your legs.

So Rumi tucked Zoey's legs between her thighs and leant forward again, feinting like she was leaning to kiss Zoey only to divert and sink cheeky teeth into Zoey's belly button. Zoey's cry of surprise felt very loud in the heavy quiet and the both of them stilled, checking over at Mira and then giggling at themselves like they were two students caught making out at the back of the classroom. They had the experience, after all. Nudging her chin against Zoey's stomach had Zoey's breath hitching, dart of Rumi's tongue and nip of her teeth had Zoey's hips jerk upwards, caught by Rumi's arm over them. Rumi felt that strength in her own arm, knowing with her warrior senses that, regardless of leverage, Zoey didn't have the strength to break her hold. She cast her eyes upwards and watched Zoey's expression break as she saw it. Zoey was as much a warrior as she was and the experimental rise of her body against the gentle iron of Rumi's arm let her know that Zoey knew it, too. That, and the shaky release of breath, the press of Zoey's own hands against her eyes. One final, slightly ragged breath and she relaxed under Rumi, giving up. That primal part of Rumi rose again in jubilation at the surrender, triggering her demon in a gentle, warning pulse of light along her patterns. Zoey and Mira had spent many hot nights in the past few months discovering alongside Rumi that her possessive tendencies only fed her demon side, not was her demon side. Rumi had spent just as many nights taking full advantage of the fact it turned both of them into quivering messes.

She dragged a lazy tongue up the expanse of sternum between Zoey's breasts, taking a brief bite before reaching upwards with the hand previously keeping Zoey's legs together. Zoey's press of her own legs together, obedient in the demand Rumi had only made with her body had Rumi's breath leaving her throat in a rush, brush of the back of her knuckles under the soft, soft underside of Zoey's breast not enough, not by far. She wanted to wait, to tease Zoey more but her mouth moved before she could redirect it, sealing itself over a nipple and sucking once and hard, tongue flicking to soften, to provoke, to do whatever Rumi needed to so that Zoey's hands moved from her shoulders to her hair. Zoey wasn't afraid, tangling her fingers into the mess of Rumi's braid like they belonged there, even as Rumi's mouth had her breath catching in little whimpers, body rising to press herself to Rumi's mouth even as it shuddered at the onslaught of sensation.

Rumi allowed her eyes to blink open from where they'd been blissfully closed and a flash of light on dark brown caught her eye. Desire, which she'd thought was already roused, banked in its multitudes as she locked eyes with Mira from where the duvet covered the lower half of her face. Even in the moonlight Rumi could see that Mira's eyes were blown, flicking from Rumi's eyes to her mouth, to where Zoey's head was thrown back. Senses she'd long associated with being more than human kicked in and Rumi simultaneously took in the rapid rise and fall of the duvet covering Mira's chest, white on the knuckles of the hand that held the duvet to Mira's mouth, and wide, wide pupils. Pulling away and dragging the flat of her tongue brazenly over Zoey's nipple holding Mira's gaze, she watched as those eyes darkened and Mira trembled. Guess they didn't need to keep things quiet anymore then. She felt a strange dichotomy within herself - now that she had power over her other lover's desire, she felt no need to indulge it. Yet.

Let Mira watch.

She leisurely gripped Zoey's hip tight enough to feel her fingers make little indents on Zoey's skin. Dragging that hand up had Zoey's breath huffing out in a groan, until she released the pressure and smoothed that hand up Zoey's chest, roaming gentle and proprietorial over her breasts. Rumi knew she was looking intently, running her gaze over Zoey's body like she couldn't drag her eyes away. She let her hand start dragging downwards - slow and inevitable, watched as Zoey's breath came faster, heard the little sound of desire muffled by duvet by Mira beside them. She skated her fingers over the crease of Zoey's thighs and up to her knees, resting her palm in the valley left between them, splaying her hand to hold them together with thumb and little finger. Glancing upwards, she saw Zoey's gaze wide and helpless, caught between watching Rumi's hand and watching her face. So she smirked and held her hand there, panting gently against the bandaged expanse of Zoey's ribcage.

Zoey started breathing again when Rumi started dragging that hand upwards, splaying her legs first with her hand then with her own thigh, catching Zoey's leg under it. She watched for the moment Zoey felt exposed, watched her breath stutter until it came out in a little moan and her thighs fell apart. The urge to surge her hand higher, to sink her fingers into the tight wetness Rumi knew would be there, to reach her thumb up and press for just as long as it took for her to get her teeth around Zoey's clit, was powerful enough to make Rumi clench her jaw to control it. It felt viciously vulnerable, allowing her fingers to tremble as they travelled upwards, stroking the delicate skin of Zoey's inner thigh. Violently exposing to look up at Zoey from Rumi's mouth pressed desperate to her ribs, showing Zoey exactly how lost in her she was. Only god, but Rumi wanted her to know. After every horrible little look she'd seen from Zoey tonight - that now translated into all the ways Zoey was hurt by her - god but she wanted to let Zoey know to her fucking bones just how much Rumi loved her.

She ran delicate fingers up to the apex of Zoey's thighs, running her fingertips over it, pressure-less so that Zoey pushed her hips impotently in Rumi's hands. The opening of her legs had only done so much and Rumi could feel the echo of Zoey's need in her own core - the need to be spread, to be opened and all the options of pleasure laid out before a lover. Make her wait, Rumi breathed to herself, just make her wait a little longer because Rumi knew, without a shadow of a doubt, that this night wasn't going to end without her giving Zoey everything - thighs round her ears, Zoey's body jerking against her beyond all thoughts of appearance, noises ripped from her throat - everything.

She waited until Zoey's hands were bruising in her hair and on her arm, until she could tell Mira was pressing her thighs together under the duvet, until Rumi was breathing hard and wet over Zoey's skin, until she indulged them all. One last kiss of the pads of her fingers and she was pressing deeper, dragging two fingers slow and devastating from Zoey's taint to her clit. Hard enough to cut through the fog of desire in Zoey's brain, slow enough that the final brush of those fingers over Zoey's clit had her arching, swearing, laughing at herself and her own sensitivity. Rumi felt almost guilty until she remembered just how deeply she belonged to this damn woman and that Zoey could fucking well put up with it.

It didn't take too many flicks of Rumi's thumb, teasing dips of her fingers to have Rumi resting her forehead against the softness of Zoey's stomach, helpless with the desire to claim. She dimly thought of the army of straps they had in the wardrobe, but the very prospect of how co-ordinated she'd have to be to get the damn thing on discounted it almost immediately. No. No, what she needed was to dip her fingers deeper, move her mouth so she was overwhelmed with Zoey's taste, tongue aching and obscene inside her. She needed Zoey's hands gripping her head like she'd die if she let go, needed Mira riding her own thighs until she was all but coming without Rumi even touching her, needed her own cunt to ride them both until those last vestiges of fear left her. The growl rose in her chest, fighting to get into her throat and she dispelled it by panting against Zoey's skin, a ragged noise coming from her open throat that should have been satisfying if it weren't for the insistent curl of desire so potent it was almost violent under her own breasts.

So she moved, leaving teasing kisses and bites down Zoey's stomach. Gentle, nipping, one place and the another, anything to trip Zoey's nervous system into not being able to predict when the next sensation would come from. All so that when Rumi sank her tongue deep and fluttering, dragged it up hard to circle Zoey's clit, sucked tight as she slipped her fingers effortlessly into her - that then Zoey would came apart for her. She did, gloriously. Broken little whimpers sounded like they were dragged from Zoey's throat, body rising against Rumi's mouth, hands hard and sublime against Rumi's scalp. She closed her eyes, serene bliss in stark comparison to the ruinous tremble of Zoey's thighs clamping against her shoulders. This, this is what she wanted.

It was like every restriction she put on herself disappeared. This often happened when she was buried between her lovers' thighs. Every whim, she indulged. Every desire, she allowed. Zoey knew it, something helpless and resigned in the way she trembled - she knew damn well that Rumi was down here as much for herself as she was for Zoey. This time, though, she saw it in a shadowy echo ricocheting through them. In some ways this was as open as she ever was with them, as free as she ever was with herself. Hands in her hair, thighs around her face, fingers knuckle deep and tongue and lips numbing - this was how she'd given herself before. That Zoey was feeling all of her with the knowledge that Rumi had held nothing back before they'd even got naked - that this was only ever going to be a physical parallel to how Rumi's heart was cracked open for them. Rumi couldn't tell if it turned her on more or if it made her want to cry with how much she loved them, all she knew is that her own thighs trembled from the top down and somehow her knees gave way even though she was on all fours on a damn bed.

The predator in her noticed when an arm snaked out from under the duvet to run gentle fingers over Zoey's face, observed Zoey looking over at Mira like she was pleading for help, ruined by the clenching shut of her eyes, dig of her fingers into Rumi's hair, shudder of her breath. The growl sat high in her chest and even as she flicked her tongue against Zoey, tasted tang and sweetness against her lips, curled her fingers up and watched Zoey' back arch off the bed, she noticed as those fingers that weren't hers caressed Zoey's body, watched how the duvet fell back and Mira divested herself of her tank top, leaving her low-riding pyjama bottoms hanging off her bony hips. The urge to bite them translated into pressure, scrape of teeth against Zoey's clit as Rumi's fingers pumped hard and fast enough times to have those hips judder against her. She took a breath against Zoey's body, closed her eyes again and tried desperately to reign that predator in. Mira wasn't a threat and was definitely more than just an object of Rumi's desire. She was safe here, she didn't need to…

She felt a hand run confident and possessive over her back, squeezing the nape of her neck. Something in her felt like a hound at their master's call and she arched her back enough to feel Mira's hips against her own. She felt the soft kiss of material across her bare ass-cheeks, her t-shirt pushed up to fall up against the swell of her breasts. Mira hooked her own fingers around Rumi's hipbones, pulling her back against flannel pyjamas. Inadvertently pulling Rumi's mouth from Zoey.

It happened all too quickly. The possessive part of her felt bereft of the sweet tang of Zoey's cunt, tongue yearning for warmth and tightness and finding only air, hands convulsing around Zoey's waist. The growl launched from her chest up her throat. It snapped out of her with a curl of her lip, snap of her head to glare at Mira, dig of her fingers into Zoey's thighs. She watched as Mira's body went slack, surprise dropping onto her face as she all but released Rumi's hips.

Shame reared hot and fast in Rumi and she immediately looked up at Zoey, eyes wide and apologetic. She hadn't meant to…

"Do you just….fucking….growl!?"

Zoey's eyes were almost black with how blown her eyes were. Trembling fingers fell from Rumi's hair to her temples. It dragged another sound out of her and the shame rose again to make justifications fall from Rumi's lips. Only the shame was not the only player in Rumi's soul, apparently. As the growl reverberated from the back of her throat again, she felt Zoey tighten helplessly around her fingers.

Oh.

Something more primal than she was comfortable with cocked her head, flitted her gaze between Zoey's face and her cunt, muscles still tightening around Rumi's fingers. This time the growl was tentative, testing and the convulsion of Zoey's muscles around her shifted it from a performance to a need, setting Rumi's teeth against the soft mound of softness above Zoey's clit, dipping her tongue to taste her before resting her chin almost coquettish against the soft hair between Zoey's thighs.

"Well." She let herself say, soft and provocative. Zoey shuddered beneath her and she felt Mira's hand reach, trembling but determined, down past the base of her spine. The grin that spread over her face was crooked and predatory. Zoey whimpered. "So I shouldn't hold that back, then?"

Whatever names Zoey was about to call her were lost in the renewed vigour of Rumi's tongue and fingers. Rumi was feeling rather proud of herself until she felt Mira pull her hips against what was clearly clothes. She let the growl emanate close and deafening against Zoey's clit, but when she dragged her mouth away to demand Mira remove her pyjama bottoms, Mira just laughed. She felt her lean over her, felt the devastating nip of teeth against her own neck and lips at her ear, even as she felt herself press against flannel, something obscene in how she felt her own wetness cover the fabric.

"Don't really feel like taking them off, Rumi."

Her fingers trembled inside Zoey and she watched her patterns make dim light shows in the precious hollows of Zoey's thighs.

"I said, take them off, Mira."

Mira chuckled low in her ear, her voice going straight to Rumi's clit, deep and blooming.

"Soak them for me, would you?"

Whatever demon growl was about to come out of her devolved into a helpless little groan as she flicked her tongue over Zoey's clit, curled her fingers inside her, pressed back against Mira so the wet heat pressed against cloth until the relative roughness of it made sparks flash behind her eyes. The part of her released railed against it - who did Mira think she was, making Rumi helpless this way? This part of her, she realised as her growl turned into a whimper and she moved her hips against Mira's like she was fucking her - this part of her was patient. This part of her didn't care that her thighs were shaking, relief and pleasure melding in her as Mira guided her to grind against her hips. Didn't care that those whimpers turned into a whine as Mira's fingers snaked between them, inside her and curled. Curled and withdrew only to return, accurate and fast and hard and fucking devastating. She felt her own desire rise up through her, made her own fingers match Mira's to fuck Zoey, only then she'd claim her own pace and feel Mira match her instead, breath hot between her shoulders blades. It was a heady and powerful feeling, being completely engrossed with pleasuring Zoey whilst also knowing damn well what she was about to do to Mira once it was done. She wondered if Mira knew. Beatifically, she didn't care.

She lost herself in the rhythm of it. Every time she felt herself truly grasp the profound satisfaction of claiming Zoey with mouth and with fingers, her splayed legs and desperate curl of her hips against Mira's made her shudder with how very owned she felt. It was both, it was all. She was lost and had never been happier, the voices and the fears and the dogged analysis program her brain insisted on running quieting in the face of hot and wet and tight and pleasure and exertion. In trembling legs and strong hands and tang on her tongue, tilt of her head and teeth at her ear. She claimed and was claimed in return and in the heady mix of it all nothing mattered enough to fret about and everything meant enough to treasure.

Surprisingly, Zoey started cresting first. Rumi could tell in the press of her legs against her face, in the specific pattern of how Zoey's breath started to stutter. Elation bloomed in her own chest - she knew that Zoey often found it hard to turn her brain off enough to really enjoy this (she and Mira had decided to perfect the art of disarming her) so the insistent rise of those hips against Rumi's mouth felt like a triumph. Broken words started falling from Zoey's lips, Rumi's name and pleas and curses - Rumi could have died now and it would have been enough. In the brief dalliances she'd had outside of Mira and Zoey she had never cared enough to have anything more than a brief sense of pride that she could bring someone to climax - this built inside her like her own orgasm, although that might have been Mira timing her fingers to Zoey's hips, matching their rhythms like they were onstage. She knew her moans were escaping from whatever part of her that wasn't dedicated to bringing Zoey to whatever crest she needed, keeping her rhythm until the press of Zoey's hips spurred her faster, riding the rock of Zoey's hips but stubbornly keeping her own tempo - if it had brought Zoey all the way here, it could take her all the way over.

Her eyes closed as Zoey came, some kind of peace suffusing every part of her body as Zoey jerked under her mouth. The press and curl of her fingers were like the instinct to breathe, riding Zoey's body through the orgasm even as Rumi pressed her face against the front of Zoey's body, the focus of her intent to pleasure her dissolving immediately into a helpless surrender to Mira's touch. Zoey was still panting and threading her fingers shakily through Rumi's hair as Rumi gripped her hips, Zoey's scent full and all-encompassing as she tightened her thighs around Rumi's face, dragged her fingers through Rumi's hair to tangle in Mira's at the nape of Rumi's neck. Rumi jerked against the clothed pillar of Mira's hips, thrusting helplessly in a way that made old shame bloom hot in her stomach only to be replaced by Mira's breathed curse, tender curl of her fingers against Rumi's hips. She wasn't ready to admit she was beautiful but she couldn't deny that she was wanted. God, but somehow she was wanted and they'd managed to persuade her it was real. They wanted, they loved, her hips were clumsy and yearning and she believed, as she looked up at Zoey's face, let Mira's fingers in her hair drag her head up, she believed that they wanted everything.

Pleasure ripped through her like a tsunami and any remaining armour she had dissolved. She knew she could stop it if she wanted to.

She didn't.

As it rode her, she let it take her senses. Flashes of Zoey's heartbroken face, Mira's wary yearning - they all crowded around her and she let it go.

What she expected that meant was her flailing, against the pressure of Mira's hips, lost in pleasure between them. That's not what she found happening, however.

The possession from before reared into the space her pleasure left and even as her body shivered with the sensation, even as her cunt contracted against suddenly nothing, she found herself twirling, a hand wrapping soft and unrelenting around Mira's throat to bear her down against the mattress. She felt Mira's body, honed by her warrior training, straining against the onslaught, conflicted in its hesitation because it knew Rumi wasn't a threat. Trusted. That Rumi wasn't a threat.

She felt Mira's hands convulse on her arms as her eyes flashed, watched her hips jerk as Rumi dragged them onto her lap. She watched Mira's eyes widen as she pushed that beautiful face up with her thumb, breath caught in a rush as Rumi dug her fingers into the suspended softness of Mira's pyjama bottoms and ripped. She sat back on her heels as she observed the rip she had made. This too she could navigate as if it wasn't hidden in shadow. Mira had always preferred to shave and the beast inside Rumi could trace that gorgeous line of hair down to the twitching shock of her cunt like it was her own. Mira was looking at her outraged, fingers digging into Rumi's arms but the sight of that clenching cunt gave her everything she needed to know. The feeling of being drunk honed into purpose and she knew her patterns were pulsing. She shifted, shrugging Mira's legs over her own shoulders and pressing forwards until she almost felt the tongue-curling sweetness of Mira's hips play over her lips.

"Rumi."

She halted, senses snapping outwards to take in everything Mira was giving her. Clenched fingers that softened into caresses, arch of back only to curl to where Rumi's fingers still rested on the tattered rip of her pyjamas, wide eyes and furrowed brow. Mira wanted this. She took a breath to remind herself that, however much most of Mira wanted this, that if Mira decided she didn't it was time to back off. One breath to bank her desire and then she opened her eyes, watched the play of violet-pink light play over Mira's apple-shaped breasts and tried to contain herself.

"Yes, Mira?"

She watched Mira's breath catch in her chest at the intent in Rumi's voice. Ever proud, Mira glared at her.

"How flexible do you think I am?"

Rumi felt her grin spread across her face, revealing all her teeth. They weren't fanged, but she allowed herself to revel in the part of her that expected them to be.

"Our premier dancer, our main choreographer?" Rumi teased, leaning even closer so that Mira's thighs hit her shoulders at the same time that Rumi's fingers slid insider her. And curled. "Don't tell me you can't take it."

Mira froze, her glare ruined by the roll of her hips longingly towards Rumi's fingers. She heard Zoey groan helplessly behind her but kept her gaze on Mira. Mira held it, even as her hands smoothed upwards to hook at the base of Rumi's neck, pulling her close, clamping her legs around her, bit her lip and closed her eyes in concentration only for the walls around Rumi's fingers to clench. Once. Twice.

"I can take anything you can give." she said, breath already catching. Rumi's memories flooded with every time Mira had ever protected her and all it did was remind Rumi of how much Mira could, in fact, take. She took her at her word, biting at her lips and fucking her hard enough she knew within a minute exactly where Mira was going to ache tomorrow. The arch of Mira's neck, tortured noise that came from her mouth to be smothered by Rumi's kisses made everything worth it. It all made glorious sense, all of a sudden. Rumi realised she'd been building up to feeling resentment that Mira and Zoey could make her feel so vulnerable, a new tactic by her inner demons that she had to scramble to defy. Only this, she realised as Mira's long legs trembled enough Rumi just had to sink teeth into them, this was perfectly designed to rid herself of that resentment. How much more could Mira be hers, then to be bent in half against the mattress this way? How much more could Rumi tell Mira she was hers than the desperate press of Rumi's lips and tongue and teeth.

She felt Zoey's hand fit comfortable and reassuring at the small of her back and scraped her teeth up Mira's ribs to lick and soothe and bite at Mira's tits. Mira coming around her was a benediction she hadn't realised she needed, a blessing she hadn't admitted to craving. She felt herself ripple against Mira's body in empathetic ecstasy, thrilled that Mira had found her pleasure when they all knew it wasn't something to take for granted. The cries from Mira's throat settled in her chest like they knew they had a home there. She loved them. She loved them. She loved them.

Her head fell between Mira's breasts and Mira shifted so that Rumi landed between her thighs, even as Mira's breathing struggled to return to normal. Zoey was clamped to Rumi's side, sliding her arm under Mira's head, nuzzling her face into any part of the two of them they could reach. Rumi let it happen. Even as the shivers of pleasure left over by their love-making travelled over her body in ripples, she let herself take a full breath, shifting so that Mira's legs could lie, finally comfortable, against the soft mattress.

She noticed, blissfully, how the profound language of sexuality faded into practicality, as the tingling of pleasure gave way to languid laziness, the veneer of attraction gave way to the quieter, no-less-powerful pull of familiarity. Rumi felt her own wetness turn cold in the minutes she spent in their arms and revelled in the complete absence of self-consciousness.

Eventually Zoey made an uncomfortable sound.

"Please tell me it's not too late for a shower right now.'

"I think," Mira said, muffled by her mouth being buried in Zoey's neck. "It might be more a question of it being too early to shower.'

"As the…" Rumi broke off, allowing a little whimper of pleasure to leave her mouth as she nuzzled between Mira's breasts. "As the official leader I've decided it's fine to shower and then come back to bed. So there."

She felt Mira huff in amusement and Zoey giggled against her shoulder.

"What about the demons in the training room?"

Mira and Rumi groaned in unison and Rumi hooked an arm around Zoey, yanking her closer in protest at that little nugget of reality intruding on them. Zoey yelped and protested that she was injured and shouldn't be treated this way. Apparently the combined incredulous looks from both her lovers made her blush and hide under the duvet. As Rumi joined in the gentle, affectionate bickering as they made their way to the shower (the shower they'd insisted on being big enough to fit the three of them, Rumi remembered fondly) she let herself be taken by it. When she hesitated, either Mira or Zoey just happened to reach for her hand. Every time she sank into one of them, the other took care of such practicalities like turning the shower on, or making sure their towels were on the radiator. For now, just for now, she felt herself mingle with them until she couldn't tell where she ended and they began. The faintest surges of fear in their death throes that pooled in her gut were quickly dispelled by every touch she allowed herself to accept. Which was all of them.

She prided herself on being a quick learner. Perhaps this was a different battleground than the one she was used to, but she intended to excel here, too. Zoey turned towards her after stepping under the hot deluge of the shower, opening her arms at the same time as Mira wrapped herself around Rumi from behind.

She melted into Zoey's arms, dragging Mira in behind them. The water cascaded over them all, awkward and laughing as one or either of them remembered their hair washing routine and ducked into or out of the water to grab a shower cap. They'd shower, change into new, crisp pyjamas and slip between the sheets together.

Home.

Chapter Text

Zoey woke with a quiet, sharp intake of breath, echoes of her dream fading immediately - sharp claws at her side, filthy mouth spitting fire in her ear and a too-hot hand in hers, gripping it tightly, a flash of eyes the colour of night bleeding into sunset. She wasn't sure they belonged all to the same person. Any attempt she was going to make to remember the dream properly stalled when she realised that the itchiness on her nose came from where her face was buried into the nape of Rumi's neck, her hair in her face. She slowly became aware of the rest of her body, wrapped around Rumi's back like a backpack, legs and arms tangled with Mira's as they sandwiched her between them. There was a solid weight resting against the bottom of her foot that didn't move even a little as she flexed it. So Derpy had joined them, then. He had single-handedly made them all very glad they'd pushed for the extra-large bed when they ordered it.

Emotions ran across her heart, ending in a goofy grin she hid into Rumi's shoulders, tightening her hold. She'd actually let them hold her and it hadn't taken the imminent end of the world to do it. The physical evidence of the consequences of that attempt to end the world, but not the actual end of the world. A small part of her stomach rolled as she thought about Jinu, about Rumi saying she loved him. Of course she'd known, she and Mira had all but agreed that Rumi had loved him, but it was different hearing her say it. Maybe. Or maybe she just wasn't used to it and she'd become accustomed to it the same way she'd become accustomed to Mira and Rumi loving one another. Either way, she wasn't going to solve it this morning and, honestly, she kind of wanted to just stay here cuddling forever. To that end she decided she was going to ignore the gentle light of the morning against the curtains on their room. Which was easier to do when her eyes were closed and tucked into Rumi. She snuggled herself closer and Rumi shifted, only enough to tighten her hold on Zoey's arm and murmur sleepily into Mira's chest.

Perfect.

She never quite got back to sleep - dozing was nice, but now she was conscious the ache on her right-hand side started to throb. All the little discomforts started irritating her - the dressing pulled slightly on her skin, the wound feeling slightly tight and twisted. She couldn't quite get comfortable again. Her shifting was clearly obvious enough that she felt Mira start to stroke her arm gently where her hand rested on it. Zoey wriggled up a little so she could see a shock of dark pink hair over Rumi's head. Mira tilted her face up so she could meet Zoey's eyes and they smiled at each other, tightening their hold on Rumi instinctively. Zoey felt a lump in her throat - Mira had been so incredible last night - so brave and certain now she had healed, so determined that Rumi would be given the same opportunities she had to let them in. She felt a little silly about tearing up over it, but when she mouthed 'I love you' over Rumi's head, Mira's wide eyes and blush, slight little cough made it all worth it. Zoey still had no idea what on earth they were all going to do with all this, but after last night she felt that they were at least going to do it together, even if the ground they walked still felt shaky. She knew that both Mira and Rumi would want to remind her that it had been her that had started the conversation, so tried to feel proud. She did feel proud, she thought, even if the fear of it still made her want to bury under the covers.

The cosy moment was broken a few moments later by Rumi shifting between them, moaning a little in discomfort until she woke up with a squeal, tucking her legs into them all to make a six-leg tangle. Zoey was laughing by the time she started to ask what was wrong, but just at that moment Derpy lifted his head, exceedingly slobbery tongue lolling as he buried his face in the duvet searching for Rumi's feet. Zoey rolled onto her back, fully abandoning Rumi to her fate of a Derpy-wake-up call, giggling as Rumi got caught up in the duvet trying to push him away and somehow ending up with Derpy fully under the duvet, one huge paw on Rumi's shoulder, huge eyes gleaming in the dim light as he lowered his face with slow and creaking inevitability towards her, only stopping when her face was smooshed up against his whiskers. Zoey was pretty sure his nose was fully in Rumi's eye, but the image of her beautiful and fearless leader pinned helplessly to the bed flailing like a fish was a little too much for her handle before her morning coffee. Only when Rumi's breath started getting very muffled did Mira reach over, chuckling herself, pushing Derpy as hard as she could. Instead of moving he very slowly collapsed onto Rumi fully, rolling off just so that she could take in a breath in a gulp and creaking low and persistent until she reached up, defeated, to scratch one huge blue ear.

Once extracted, Rumi joined Mira and Zoey in agreeing that they were all keen to get downstairs to make sure nothing was on fire. A brief look at the security cameras in the hallway at least proved that the boys hadn't found a way up the stairs, another that looked at the balcony showed that they had somehow spragged some of the gym mats up to cover the smashed window. Abby had come out during the night at one point, but all he did was lean his elbows on the wall surrounding the balcony and look out at the city. About an hour later, a smaller shape had shifted by the door and Mystery came out, wrapping himself around Abby like a second skin and not moving, not even when Abby tried to turn around and walk back in. The picture was a little fuzzy, but Zoey liked to imagine she could see a laugh on Abby's face as he twisted in Mystery's arms and picked him up like a child, Mystery's legs tight around his waist as he walked them both in.

They idly watched the rest of the sped-up footage as they did their teeth together in the master bathroom, the tablet leant up against the mirror. Mira and Rumi had showered already, filling the bathroom with steam and heat so that Zoey could flannel-wash without freezing her nips off. She was stiff everywhere, but Rumi did pose the point (with a cheeky grin, Zoey noticed) that she'd never know if it was the fighting or the sex. Which led them to talking about Zoey's reaction to Rumi's growl, which then led to Mira laughing at her. Which then, to Rumi's credit, led her to defend Zoey's honour by pointing out how Mira's legs had started shaking the moment Rumi had put her hand around Mira's throat. Mira, spluttering but slightly helpless because Rumi's hands were massaging shampoo deep into her scalp, pointed out that she had been overstimulated by the fangs, to which Rumi insisted she didn't have fangs, to which Mira and Zoey had to respectfully disagree. Once the shower had done this then of course led them all crowding round the sink mirror, pulling up Rumi's lips to check her canines for fangs and experimenting with having Rumi ignite her patterns to see if they appeared then. Rumi said she didn't know how to ignite them at will, at which point Zoey had no choice but to slip her hand up Rumi's towel and stroke nimble fingers over her clit at the same time as scraping her teeth along the cord of Rumi's neck. All for scientific research of course.

In any case, the conclusion was that they figured that Rumi's teeth did indeed get a little sharper when her patterns ignited, but that given time restraints they were going to have to leave further research for another time. At which point Mira accused Rumi of tasting of coffee and cereal, at which point the teeth brushing started. Zoey decided it was far easier to put up with Mira and Rumi teasing her for, once again, becoming a melting mess of a woman when Rumi went demon-y when their mouths were taken up with toothpaste.

She felt so happy she thought her chest would burst.

Luckily they didn't have any meetings today, although they all felt a bit guilty when Bobby sent them a text asking how the new originals were coming for the new acoustic album. Having three demons in the Snug took priority, however. Mid-morning found them crowded outside the door to the stairs down to the lower floor, Zoey holding a covered plate of hotteok (otherwise known as Anxiety Pancakes) that Mira had made whilst the three of them had been talking strategy before coming down. The moment Mira had started feeling comfortable cooking for them Zoey and Rumi had taken to sending Mira's old family cook birthday presents - she had apparently taken Mira on as her 'apprentice' when Mira had snuck down to the kitchen after fights with her mother. More to Zoey and Rumi's benefit.

After a glance between them and a breath together, Rumi unlocked the door and they descended the stairs. Mira made an unhappy sound as they saw the streak of blood at the bottom where Zoey had fallen last night. She felt a shiver go through her at how quiet and quick Baby must have been to take her unawares - she still wasn't sure how he'd done it. That shiver was caught and banished by Rumi's hand at the base of her spine. She wasn't alone this time.

The gym was light and airy under the cloudy morning sky, some sort of complicated rope and pulley system keeping the mats up over the window. They would have to try and figure out what to tell Celine so they could ask her to get it fixed. The boys were sat around Romance's bedroll, still pushed against the far wall. He was sitting up in it, duvet over his legs, and there was a set of mugs and empty cereal bars to once side of him. Mystery was already on his feet, hands nervously clamped in front of his chest as he stood next to Romance's bed, but Abby was laid on his side like a Roman Emperor, facing away from them and lazily rolling his head back to look at them as they approached. If he was trying to give the impression that he wasn't scared of them, he was doing a damn good job.

"Ladies," Romance said softly, delicate fingers curled around his mug. All of the plans they had made upstairs felt very different now Zoey was looking into his face, still so beautiful even through the bruising.

"Hey," she said lamely, lifting the plate as an offering. "Hotteok?"

"We don't want any Hunter food, thanks." Abby said, not looking at them. Romance raised his eyebrows.

"Speak for yourself, darling - I'm starving. You wouldn't keep me weak and broken for your pride, would you?"

His eyes got very big, his lips pursing together into one of the most perfect pouts Zoey had ever seen. She couldn't see Abby's face but his body slumped a little.

"Fine."

"I'm sure they appreciate your 'permission' greatly, darling. Bring them here, would you dearest?"

Zoey trotted forward, unsure when Romance had turned into a dowager matriarch giving orders from her sickbed. The image oddly suited him. She came round the other side to Abby, keeping her movement slow so as not to set Mystery off. The fact that she could feel Mira at her back like a lurking Doberman probably made the attempt meaningless.

"How are you doing?" she asked, kneeling by the bed and taking the kitchen towel off the top. The hotteok steamed and Romance put down his mug to take one.

"Oh, you know, healing."

"Slightly less broken?"

He looked at her, halfway taking a bite, and then offered her his hand. Zoey found herself looking at it, remembering how it had felt to touch him that first time at Namsan - how parts of him had crunched and shifted where they really, really shouldn't. She looked up at him and he smiled that slightly bemused smile at her.

"Go on, sweet thing. It won't break this time, I promise."

She took the hand, pale and delicate, feeling the strength of it under her fingers, tendons fully taught, finger-bones all in the right place. She smiled back a little shakily.

"That's good," she replied, idly stroking his hand with her finger. "You gave us quite a scare yesterday."

"Like you really care." Abby shot from his place near Romance's feet.

"We do care." Zoey replied solidly.

"And that's the thing, isn't it?" Romance mused. "You actually do, don't you?"

"Why would we not?" Mira asked from behind her. "Like we've always wondered whether we'd do something that stupid for each other."

"Whatever," Abby responded, sitting up so he could see Rumi as well. "Gimme one of those."

He reached over and grabbed a hotteok, studiously ignoring Zoey's raised eyebrow.

"What about the 'No Hunter Food' rule?"

He shrugged, having already taken a huge bite. Shameless. With a little flutter in her stomach, Zoey turned and offered the plate to Mystery. He crouched by Romance's shoulder and hesitated.

"Go on, Mystery. They're very good, you know. And you need to build your strength up too."

On Romance's instruction, he reached out and took one, ducking his head a little so that his fringe swung even further over his face. As he pulled away he reached out with his other hand, covering Zoey's hand in his own and squeezing a little before letting go and retreating back a few feet. Zoey could tell her eyes were wide by Romance's knowing smile. "That's his way of saying 'thank you', if you were wondering." he explained. "Our boy doesn't really like talking unless he really has to. These days."

"These days?" Rumi asked softly. Romance looked at her, a measure of hardness in his face before he glanced at Abby, reaching over to take another hotteok, and then back again. He shook his head and the meaning was clear. Whatever the reason for Mystery not wanting to talk much anymore, it clearly had something to do with Jinu."

Zoey watched Rumi nod, her chest rising and falling in a deep breath.

"So," she began, coming to sit cross legged behind Zoey, who scooted back against Mira's legs. "I thought we should probably establish some ground principals."

"You're holding us all hostage for whatever reason whilst having split two of us into pieces and forced the other one to throw himself off a building?" Abby asked, bits of hotteok flying out of his mouth. Romance frowned delicately and reached down to brush crumbs off his duvet with the back of his hand. Abby ducked his head a little in apology and clearly decided to change tack. Definitely a dowager matriarch, Zoey thought.

"If that's how you're seeing it then that just proves my point that we need to clarify the situation." Rumi replied blithely.

"You waiting to 'save' us, too?"

Zoey's stomach clenched, but Rumi just smiled at him, hesitating just for a moment before reaching over and finding Zoey's hand. Obviously. In full view of the boys. Abby clearly clocked it and grinned like he'd won something.

"Is that what you want?" Rumi asked instead. Zoey squeezed her hand, suddenly very proud of her and raw enough she had to fight not to show it too much. "Because I honestly don't think that's what this is about."

"Then what is this about?"

"You really weren't the negotiator of the group, were you?"

"Well you fucking killed our main negotiator so I guess he wasn't that good at it, was he?"

"He wasn't the only one to get killed that night, muscle boy." Mira reminded him from behind Zoey. "How are the abs, anyway?"

"Still cut, sweetheart. Wanna see?"

"No thanks, just had breakfast. Wouldn't want to lose it so soon after."

"Oh I think she protests too much, don't you think, Romance?"

"Don't get me involved in this."

"If we could move on from Abby's abs to the point?" Rumi cut in. Romance chuckled.

"Trust me when I say that isn't the first time I've heard that particular plea before."

Zoey could imagine it, actually. If Jinu's real persona was anything like his public one, she could just see him pinching the bridge of his nose and trying to reign this group of idiots in. She felt a pang of sympathy - she was very glad it hadn't been her job.

"I'm sure," Rumi continued. "But there are some things that I think we need to get straight."

"We're not getting anything straight with you."

"Don't be stubborn - what do any of us have to lose here?"

"You're Hunters, remember?"

"And you're demons…."

"Not anymore, bitch. Baby said it best - you cut our demon balls off. What, you scared or something?"

Rumi considered his question, then nodded, looking straight back at him.

"Yes." she replied simply. "I don't want to speak for the others, but for my part? Yes. I saw those shadows coming in after you, the parts of you that truly belong in Hell and I got scared. I couldn't take that part of you. I'm sorry."

Whatever Abby was about to say was punctured by that apology, leaving him with his mouth open like a fish. Romance sighed.

"Told you."

"She really fucking means it, doesn't she?"

"That's why they're the heroes, darling."

"Fuck. I'm still not saying anything. We none of us are saying anything. Fuck your apology." Abby finally ended up saying. Rumi smiled and every doubt Zoey had that she could do this faded in that smile. Whether it was strength pulled from what had happened last night, or that Rumi was allowing herself to take the strength Zoey and Mira desperately wanted to give her, Abby had no hold on her anymore.

"Eloquent as always."

"Fuck you."

"Of course. But how is this getting us anywhere? I think we can help each other."

"And why the fuck would we want to do that?"

"What are your damn options, you idiot?" Mira blurted, clearly more frustrated than Rumi. "The honmoon is corrupted, that much is obvious. You and Mystery might have been caught in it for months but Romance was sent crazy by it - that's one of the reasons we're keeping him here, he's safe from it here."

"Yeah, yeah - you think he hasn't said all this to us already?"

"Then why the fuck are you making us say it again?"

"To make a damn point!" Abby shouted back, leaning forward like he was about to get to his feet. Zoey discreetly curled her fingers at her hip, feeling for if her blades were ready to call. Just in case. She saw Mystery shift beside her and knew he'd seen. "I don't get why you think we're going to want to talk to you when you literally killed a bunch of us!"

"Whilst you were trying to destroy the world!"

"Well maybe it fucking needs destroying, ever think of that?"

"Oh sure, sure - the demon king is just doing what needs to be done."

"Stop it." Romance snapped as Abby went to argue back. Abby rolled his eyes like he was entering an old argument. "Don't look at me like that. You know how I feel about this."

"Well maybe I can't just forgive and forget." Abby retorted. "Given everything they've done to our kind, what the hell is wrong with not wanting to cozy up to them in principal, huh?"

Romance's eyes narrowed.

"Since when do you care about 'our kind', hmm? You joined Jinu first and he certainly didn't give a crap about demon-kind the way he stalked around like he owned the damn place. The Outer Hamlets were almost as scared of the two of you showing up as they were a Pit-Beast."

The girls shared a look as the two demons argued. These weren't terms they had ever heard of before and they were supposed to be experts. Zoey's fingers itched for a notebook.

"I still don't plan on cuddling up to them and you can't make me."

Romance curled his lip in anger, shooting a look over at them. Zoey watched as his gaze slid up to Mira, some emotion flickering over his face before something like triumph suffused it. Abby had his arms crossed over his very large chest. He looked like a petulant child.

"Are you sure all your hatred is based on them being Hunters, darling?" Romance asked, the blade in his voice turning the soft tone into something threatening.

"What the hell else would it be!?"

"Don't blame them for making better choices than we did." Romance snapped back. That emotion flickered over his face again, naked enough now for Zoey to recognise it as bitterness. Regret. Mira froze behind her.

Abby had frozen as well, a cold rage in his glare at Romance, who met his gaze like he was daring him to disagree. In the stillness, Zoey noticed that Mystery had shuffled closer again. She hadn't seen him do it.

"Boys, I don't care who is more hurt or angry - last night was a lot. For all of us in different ways. It was a lot."

Rumi's voice was calm and strong. Neither Romance nor Abby looked away from each other, but Zoey could see their bodies shifting a little. "The demon king damns everyone around him, demon and human alike. And even now he's gone, he's left enough of himself to fuck us all over. I'm not arguing that we didn't let you and Mystery down, but we can't fix it unless we know how we did so. And you can't be free until we figure out what's going on with the honmoon in the stadium, because if you go too far from us that corruption will get you just as easy as if the bastard was still here."

The room was quiet for a good long while. Zoey could see Abby's chest rising and falling with his breath, like he was fighting an internal battle she didn't understand.

"I want to be free, Abby."

She jumped and felt Mira do the same behind her - Mystery's gentle voice had come from right beside her, now sat on the ground less than a few hands away.

"Don't know if this is the way to do it, kiddo." Abby replied, his voice sounding tight. Romance hadn't looked away from him.

"Jinu said I could be free. He said I should be."

Finally Abby looked away, a stricken expression on his face as he turned to Mystery before he deflated.

"Fine." he said finally. "But don't expect me to like it."

"You don't have to like it, darling," Romance responded, his voice silky like butter. He reached forward, drawing his hand down Abby's face and catching his thumb on Abby's lips. "But you're doing it for us, for Mystery and me. We're not going to forget that."

Abby took a deep breath, nestling his chin into Romance's palm. The tension broke with that nuzzle and Romance smiled beatifically back at him.

"You really could charm the knickers off a damn nun, couldn't you?" Mira grumbled from behind her. Zoey snorted and Romance leant back sinfully.

"Nunnery, darling. The king surely wouldn't waste my talents on just one nun."

Her mouth dropped open and she was just about to laugh when Mira gripped her shoulder.

"Wait," she said. "A whole nunnery?"

"Yes?" Romance drawled.

"Where?" Mira asked. He quirked his head and Zoey heard Rumi breathe a little curse from behind her, her eyes wide.

"No way."

"No way what?" Zoey asked.

"Where?" Mira asked again.

Romance smiled enigmatically.

"Well I can't remember exactly - somewhere round here, though I think."

"Holy crap." Rumi breathed from behind her.

"May I ask why?" he asked.

"You…oh my god." Mira replied, crouching behind Zoey to grip her shoulders like she was about to fall over. A memory tickled at the back of Zoey's head.

"Wait." she said, realization dawning on her.

"What the hell is going on?" Abby demanded. "Why are you all blushing right now?"

"Because…because we started training to fight demons really young, that's why!" Rumi replied, clearly mortified.

"So?"

"So, do you honestly think they tell kids what demons can fucking do straight away!?" Mira answered. "No, they tell us that you're evil and manipulative but they leave the 'oh and they can seduce their way through a mother-house of nuns and leave them all dead and soulless' until we're a little fucking older!"

"Wait," Romance said this time, a rather delightful smile creeping onto his face. "Are you telling me that my little foray into the Holy Cross ended up on your school table?"

"Oh god it really was him."

"As did their fucking diaries you absolute pervert!"

"Oh ho, yes. I do remember how insistent they were that we document our pleasures together. I seem to remember some of them insisting on doing so whilst I was still actually inside….

"Ohmygodshutup!"

"Seriously?!"

"Could you please not!?"

Zoey could remember it vividly - the way that Celine had insisted on meeting all of their eyes with that strange, testing intensity of hers as she outlined exactly how many of these nuns had been found and in what positions. How she'd handed out the nuns' diaries and asked them to read them out loud so that they could all be aware of all of the different ways demons could corrupt. Which meant that Zoey did indeed know already that some of the nuns had kept Romance 'warm' whilst…oh god.

Romance started laughing and Zoey dimly realized that all three members of Huntrix were blushing furiously and were either curled up into their hands or the floor. This was not a good look for them.

"Holy shit man, I think you're famous."

"Clearly. Good to know that if any of our dear hunters were there that I might have stood at least a little bit of a chance with them."

Zoey wanted to retaliate, or at least deny what he said but couldn't quite find the words. One of the nuns had said that he'd got them to lay towels out in the chapel, better to soak up all the new holy water he'd make them. Celine had gone a beautiful shade of pink when she realised she needed to explain that there were ways to make a woman orgasm that would…oh god again.

"What makes you think in a demon-nun scenario that I'd be a damn nun, idiot?" Mira shot out from behind her, but Zoey wasn't entirely sure she'd thought it through before she opened her mouth. "I'm not some innocent thing to be corrupted, I…"

Definitely hadn't thought it through, Zoey thought, as Mira trailed off when she realised where her point was inevitably going.

The boys went quiet and Zoey looked up from where she'd buried her face in her hands to see them both looking at Mira, eyes wide. Their thoughts were written all over their faces, enough so that Zoey couldn't help picturing Mira appearing through dim candles in the chapel, sinful and irresistible. They might need to do some role-play later.

Romance flapped his hand until it scraped Abby's arm lamely.

"I always said, darling." he whispered, sounding a little breathless. "That any nun corruption was always far better when it was sapphic."

"What exactly are you imagining right now!?"

"So, so many things." Abby replied to Mira, immediately. Zoey felt Mira casting her gaze around, hopping nimbly onto one foot and throwing a slipper with deadly aim, hitting him square in the face so he rocked backwards onto the mat.

Mystery started chuckling quietly beside her and Zoey couldn't quite remember which way was up anymore.

Chapter Text

After the girls had taken the necessary time to process that they were sitting in front of the Holy Cross demon who had indirectly been part of one of their first, (eyeopening and traumatizing) sex-ed lessons, they brewed a pot of coffee and actually started talking business. Zoey thought that they looked some kind of old-world council, sat cross legged in a circle on the matting. If so, that would probably make Romance the king, given that he was still sitting on his futon, propped up on his pillows against the wall. Rumi had plopped herself directly opposite him and then Zoey was suddenly lost in a fantasy where Rumi was a feudal warlord. She was only brought back to the conversation by movement by her side - Mystery had sat next to her and, even though there were a few feet between them she couldn't help but be drawn to every move he made.

Most of those moves seemed to be nervous, or at the very least, wary like a fox caught in a corner.

It became clear that a lot of Abby's bluster was because he was deeply unnerved by whatever they had done to him and Mystery up at the tower. Not that he'd ever say it, but the way he'd pace, running nervous fingers over his chest as he threw accusations at them every now and again gave it away like he'd fully admitted it. From what he (and occasionally Mystery) described, it felt like their demon sides were just far away - they could still feel them, still feel the curl of shame if they really wanted to, but for the most part it was like it didn't exist. Abby clearly disliked the fact that it had been done to him more than he disliked the actual consequences, laughing off the fact that he'd always wanted to be truly shameless, he 'guessed he was now'.

Mystery stayed very quiet for the most part, but Zoey could see the corners of his beautiful mouth turned down unhappily, pinching together when Abby tried to be celebratory. She also couldn't help but question whether or not he was actually getting closer to her every time she looked away or if she was imagining it. What she really wanted to do was stop noticing him at all, but that wasn't likely to happen. He and Abby had removed their hats, but they were still in the tattered remains of their barbarized traditional clothes, torn in places where Zoey had to force herself not to look. There was something about the glimpses of taught, lean muscle in Mystery's chest and arms that made her gulp nervously, even as the core of her was still warm and sated from the girls earlier that morning. It was a different flavour of desire, nothing comfortable about it. Even with Rumi's patterns Zoey felt the ever-present lull of love and affection and security - however large her fangs did or did not get, Rumi couldn't and wouldn't every hurt her. She wasn't so sure about Mystery. A few self-destructive summers in America had taught her that that wasn't necessarily a turn off for her.

Right now, however, she kind of just wanted to wrap him up in a blanket and feed him hot soup. Something deep and protective was provoked every time she looked over and saw him hugging his knees to his chest, hiding his face. She tried to contribute the conversation, did contribute to the conversation, but also found herself unable to forget the moment she'd seen those eyes properly, seen that glimpse of his whole face in its ruinous glory before she'd added her own violence to end him. It didn't make her feel good. At all.

The conversation went the way that, if Zoey thought about it, it was always going to go. Despite Romance's unhappy pouts, Abby' flat refusal and Mira shifting uncomfortably as she sat, there was only one way this was going to go. If the boys were going to put up with being here, they wanted answers. If the girls wanted answers, there was only one way of really doing that. They could go back to the tower and observe the rifts where they'd pulled Abby and Mystery from, yes, but they all agreed that this would only get them so far. Not to mention that the stadium itself was rigged to reach for them, demon and hunter alike now. Hell wanted its own back and the honmoon was desperate for any strength it could drag from them. It had clearly been news to the boys that there were stories of Hunters giving too much of themselves to the honmoon and being lost to it. Zoey thought she should probably be worried that they were giving demons information they didn't have previously. She couldn't quite make herself do it, though, not with Romance and his bruised face and tired eyes in front of her.

So it inevitably came back to singing. To exposing the honmoon around Abby (he had been so adamant that it wasn't going to be Mystery not even Mira argued with him) and see how it was acting. To see if they could bring up that chain they'd all seen again, see if they or one of the boys could glean any kind of information from it. Romance had clearly told Abby about what had happened before and seemed resigned and affectionately exasperated at how fervently Abby insisted he wasn't going to let that happen to him. That Rumi could sing as hard as she damn liked, he wasn't going to let her anywhere his heart. Not going to let her 'save' him. Zoey would have found it annoying, did actually find it annoying, but she knew she wasn't the only one who noticed that Abby got louder every time Romance or Mystery looked uncomfortable. Wasn't the only one who saw how he pulled focus every time one of his boys displayed any signs of wanting to be out of the conversation. Mira's eyes were on him like she was observing a target, scraping over his body in that way of hers so that Zoey knew she wasn't even noticing his attractiveness. Mira always respected when someone was willing to go to lengths to protect their own. Perhaps Zoey wasn't the one in most danger of popping that corn any time soon.

Diva that he apparently was, Abby demanded that they sit on chairs this time. Strangely quiet, Mira volunteered to bring them from one of the studios on this level. Zoey quite enjoyed ogling her muscles as she carried the chairs back, looking away to try and disguise it only to lock eyes with Romance, who was clearly doing the same thing. They shared a surprised but conspiratorial grin - Zoey wasn't about to judge a man for liking a woman with muscle. She wasn't quite sure how she felt about that man being the Holy Cross demon, but this had been a weird enough week that it wasn't that hard to get over it.

Rumi sat first, placing the chairs so that they were facing each other, a few feet apart. Abby had waved off Zoey being close to him, so she'd hung back behind him, watching Mira maneuver herself so she could halt Romance or Mystery if they tried to interfere. Zoey watched Romance try to glare at her and be put out that Mira wasn't even looking, then pouting for real. She hid a smile - lordy but she knew how that felt.

Abby was strutting to the chair like it was a damn performance, dissolving Romance's pout into a disbelieving grin at the sheer ridiculousness of Abby's arrogance. He stalked up to the chair like he was on-stage and it would have been ridiculous if he didn't look so damn good whilst doing it. Zoey watched Rumi's judgemental raised eyebrow turn slightly wide-eyed as Abby looked right at her, arching his back and lowering himself onto the chair like he was in some kind of strip-tease. As he shrugged, somehow managing to loosen his coat until it fell tantalizing down his arms and chest, the image was in no way damaged. A delicate brush of his fingers down his throat and chest to smooth down his thighs settled him into the chair.

"Ready for you, Hunter." he purred.

There was a moment of silence, Zoey praying that Rumi would find the strength to unwiden her eyes and say something. Anything.

"We…" Rumi tried, her voice breaking. She coughed and tried again. "We really need to spend some more time around men, girls. This is ridiculous."

Abby was looking very smug at the effect of what should have been a truly ridiculous and cringey performance. Zoey really wished she had found it cringey.

"We do spend time around men." Mira rebutted, sounding strained. "We hang around Bobby all the time.

"Bobby doesn't do seated slut-drops very often, Mira!" Rumi shot back, sounding a little desperate. Abby's chuckle, low in his chest and somehow filthy, did not help in the slightest.

"Darling," Romance chided silkily. "Please behave yourself. Your sluttery today is brazen even for you."

"You love my sluttery."

"I'm not arguing that."

"You especially love my sluttery when it's in front of other people."

"Well now…"

"So why exactly are you complaining?" Abby finished, arching his back a little as turned his head to pin Romance to the futon with his gaze. Romance did nothing but lean back against the wall, a heated knowledge to his smirk that cemented every suspicion Zoey had about whatever relationship was between them.

"Rumi," Zoey croaked. "Rumi please start the…the thing…the thing that we're supposed to be doing. Please do…that. Please do that."

Abby turned back to Rumi and smirked at her - nothing violent and all aggressive. This was different than it had been with Romance - Romance had been unwilling but resigned. Abby was fully hostile. If they hadn't done what they'd done last night, if Rumi hadn't already demonstrated that her strength was magnified since their spat outside the stadium, Zoey would have been worried. Instead, she watched as Rumi tempered her own embarrassment and looked at Abby, really looked at him. Saw through the bluster and the sex and saw a man scared and angry and willing to lash out. She watched as Rumi took strength from that, remembered that she was in the position of power here. Watched that shift into a solid sense of responsibility - if they were going to persuade the boys to trust them, they had to demonstrate how they didn't wanted to take advantage of them.

"Are you ready?" Rumi asked.

"There's nothing you can throw at me I'm not ready for, baby." Abby replied. Rumi's mouth tilted a little and she took a breath, closing her eyes. Utterly unperturbed. Zoey wanted to kiss her so badly her lips tingled. The yearning grew, morphing briefly into how she used to feel - when she longed to bring her lips to Rumi's but hadn't yet, didn't know if she ever would. Didn't know if she ever should. She shook her head slightly - that last thought didn't really sound like her at all. Her stomach flipped as she watched Rumi brace herself and wondered, not for the first time, if Romance had really been the first Saja Boy they'd encountered. Or whether there'd been one here all along

Chapter Text

Zoey took a breath, trying not to let the image of Abby from the damn Saja Boys sitting in a chair in the middle of her training room waiting to be sang at freak her out so much she lost her composure. Honestly, what was even happening these last few days? Either way, she was a Hunter and they were conducting an experiment. She needed to be ready.

Rumi started to sing and Zoey tried desperately not to feel out of her depth. Rumi and Mira were beginning to take control of these new weapons and she didn't even know what hers was, pushing herself blindly to send waves through the honmoon to try and be useful. The fear from the night before came back - that Mira and Rumi were solidifying this new way of doing things and Zoey was just holding them back, floundering. Now was not the time to succumb to that, though, not with so much pressure on them. So she breathed and she watched, waited and tried to remember that she'd made an impact before, saved Romance from the breach of his defences before. He'd even all but said thank you.

She was beginning to become accustomed to the stark beauty of this new honmoon with its myriad strands, so she could just about keep her focus when it appeared, casting her gaze around it to try and find anything to notice. It didn't take much - the strands were being pulled towards Abby's chest like there was a plug in there someone had just taken out. Like those glowing strands were caught in some gentle current where his heart should be. Rumi didn't push, kept singing slow and strong. There was the odd jaggedness in the strands around him, but far fewer than there should have been - the honmoon had surrounded Romance like it was secluding him from the world - it didn't seem to feel the need to bother with Abby, save for that pull in his chest.

Abby, too, was less affected, rolling his shoulders and puffing out a breath in a clear attempt to gather himself before looking around, reaching forwards to try to poke bits of the honmoon himself. The strands retreated from his fingers like magnets of the same pole.

"Damn," he said quietly. "That's the real deal, huh."

"Real deal?" Mira asked.

"Yeah," he replied. "A true sealed honmoon. It won't even let me near it, let alone break through."

"You sound like you've seen one before." Zoey noted softly. He tilted his head so he almost looked back at her.

"Well yeah," he admitted. "Jinu took me up to the honmoon a while back, last time it was properly sealed. Guess that would have been the Hunters before you, right?"

They all knew enough of their history to know that he was talking about something about thirty years ago. Zoey wouldn't get used to the heady realisation that these boys were most likely much, much older than they were.

"My mother." Rumi said between phrases, gaze open and expectant as Abby looked up at her, clearly a little shocked at the admission. So was Zoey, for that matter. She smiled knowingly. "Surely you must know that my mother was the previous Hunter."

"Well yeah," Abby replied, trying absently to curl a strand of honmoon round his finger. It wasn't working but there was a playfulness to it that suggested he didn't mind. "I mean, not at the time, but once we came here sure, we figured it out."

"Why did he take you up there?" Zoey asked. Abby shrugged.

"Don't know. Or, I didn't know at the time. Maybe it'll shock you to learn that he wasn't exactly the kind of guy to let a man know his deepest darkest intentions."

Rumi rolled her eyes. Zoey watched Abby catch it and try not to care. Instead he tried catching the honmoon again. "All he said was that he wanted to see it, a fully sealed honmoon. He kept testing it, you know? Even though he said he wasn't trying to break through, he just wanted to know what it felt like."

Zoey kept quiet, holding her breath. She could tell Rumi was doing the same thing and didn't want to risk looking at Mira.

"He said that there was something about it, something weird." Abby continued. "I remember him letting it flow over him and saying that there was something corrupted about it. He seemed happy, like he'd found a secret or something. I didn't really get it."

He seemed lost in the memory, roving his eyes over the honmoon like he could see Jinu himself in it. "Next thing I know he's babbling about how corrupted souls could infect the honmoon and that we needed to concentrate on that rather than breaking it outright. That maybe if the honmoon itself was corrupted then the King could break through. That's what he went to Gwi-Ma with, by the way."

Rumi's eyes were wide as she sang but she nodded. Zoey was filled with admiration, she didn't think she could respond to him so calmly right now.

"What do you mean 'corrupted'?" Rumi asked him in a breath between phrases. Abby cocked his head at her.

"I mean I assumed you would know, to be honest." he replied. "I think Jinu thought it was something to do with the people that made the honmoon. With the Hunters."

"You think the Hunters were corrupted?" Mira asked angrily. Abby just shrugged again.

"I mean, not really, but then there's a half-demon kid, right?" he said, raising his chin at Rumi. 'I don't really know what Jinu saw but it seemed to be something to do with the King being part of the honmoon already, or something. He's not your dad, is he?"

Zoey felt a shiver run through her so her fingers tingled. He hadn't actually asked…

"What?" Rumi replied, her voice hollow as she tried to sing again.

"You know, Gwi-Ma. Is he your father?"

Rumi faltered sudden and hard - Zoey realised in a flash that she wasn't going to recover. Even if she did, she shouldn't have to in this conversation. She darted forward, curling her hands gently over Rumi's and took up the song instead. The honmoon pulsed back into life and she felt Rumi breathing heavy under her.

"You're just…asking?" she heard her say. "Just like that?"

From this angle Zoey could see the nonchalant look on Abby's face, slight crease in his brow of confusion.

"Well why wouldn't I? You've more than proved that you're not tied to him on account of defeating him that one time, right? So why would it matter?"

"But, it's not…"

"I just thought you may know, it might explain a few things." Abby continued, clearly oblivious to Rumi's spluttering. "I guess, given that you were born up here, that all he'd be is a sperm donor, right? So why would it matter?"

Zoey watched him look up at Rumi and couldn't find it in herself to suspect him of manipulation. He really, really just didn't seem to care. She could feel Rumi tense underneath her, feel her doubt in the face of this previously unspoken suspicion like an ache in her own chest. Yet somehow Abby's indifference was infectious and even Zoey found herself wondering if it really mattered. Rumi had said she had never known who her father was, that Celine had never told her. She suspected that Celine knew, but had decided not to tell her. It was one of the many reasons Mira had come to her conclusions about Celine, one of the many reasons why Zoey had resigned herself to putting some distance between them. How could you not tell someone, when it could have been so many horrible things? How could you leave them to imagine, without knowing the truth, all the many ways a half-demon child could come into the world?

Rumi, it seemed, was going in a different direction.

"Don't talk about my father." she warned, low in her throat. Zoey suddenly realised that, whilst Rumi was stronger than she had been yesterday, that there were some faults in her armour being replaced with anger in a way that might not be…."Don't you dare talk about any member of my family that way."

Abby responded to her anger the way Zoey was afraid he would, with a devil-may-care grin and a lean forward.

"Oh?" he taunted. "Does the little Hunter princess have big feelings about where she might have come from?"

"Don't."

"Don't what, precious? You ashamed of those pretty patterns or what?"

Rumi sunk her voice suddenly and aggressively into Zoey's. There was nothing Zoey could do to stop it, caught on a breath alongside Rumi to push accurate and powerful into the meagre film of Abby's defences. It punched through like they were made of paper and then Zoey was lost, scrambling to grab for anything resembling her knives.

Grief. At least, she thought it was grief. She couldn't tell, mixed as what was acrid bitterness in her throat, anger and rage and resentment and stunted glory and she didn't know what to do, how to process it, how to even breathe. She recognised the feeling through the shock of it, forced her mind to rebel against these feelings because they weren't hers, right? They weren't hers, they couldn't be hers - gods she would say yes to anything just to make these feelings go away…

Just when she was beginning to snap out of it - the flood of feeling and memories too bright and smelling of chemicals and latex - there was a roar of rage that didn't come from her and a crash. She felt herself like she wasn't in her own body, the world tiling violently and she struggled to orient what was happening. It felt like the honmoon cried out around her, squeezing her tight enough to push the breath from her lungs before snapping away like someone had cut the strings. In a way, they had, her body faster than her mind as it sprung into action. Abby had launched himself at Rumi, slamming into her and her chair to knock her to the ground, Zoey flung to one side. The two of them rolled ungainly over the matting, hands grabbing and scratching at shoulders and hair. It was all rage and no finesse. She caught a faint glow out of the corner of her eye and knew that Mira's glaive was out, held like a palace guard in front of Mystery and Romance, who had all but clambered onto her back. Zoey drew her daggers to her and they felt sluggish, almost reluctantly forming in her hand. She couldn't blame them - she didn't really know where to aim. Rumi and Abby were a tangle, flashes of purple on Rumi's skin and a snarl just as much on her face as Abby's. Perhaps, she thought as she advanced, looking for any kind of opening to shut them down, perhaps she should have foreseen this after last night. Rumi didn't take to being bulled well.

Rumi had just got a good fist to Abby's face when Zoey heard Mira give a bark of warning from beside her. She turned, but not quick enough - all of a sudden there was a body pressed up against her side. Long, lean arms wrapped around one of her own and Mystery's face was pressed against hers, his forehead pushing against her temple.

"Stop them." he murmured. Alarm bells rang in her head at the urgency in it and she did a scan of him before she could help herself. A tremor in his voice, breath short and irregular against her cheek, body trembling against her own, face cold with sweat. He was afraid. Long fingers curled around her wrist, fighting with her daggers to curl into her palm. "I don't want him to die."

Something small and hot ignited in Zoey's chest, born of years of being the angry short one that stuck up for the underdogs - had learnt at a young age that the only reason the bullies left her alone was because she fought back. She'd seen bodies like this - children they'd rescued from demon attacks, a memorable time where a whole family had been terrorized by a demon for months before the Hunters arrived. Haunted. Waiting for the hurt to come again, certain that it would, terrorized by the fact that they didn't know when.

She felt herself step forward and he stuck to her side like glue.

"That's enough, Rumi." she insisted, loudly. "Wind it down now."

"He started it!"

"Then finish it! Now!"

She saw Rumi's gaze flicker over to her, widen slightly at the sight of a full-grown demon clinging to Zoey like a scared toddler before it settled into focus. She wriggled underneath Abby's bulk, somehow shifting so that her hand was free. The soft swish of her sword being pulled from the honmoon was coupled with a cry from Romance and then it was stillness. Rumi was crouched over Abby, their faces barely an inch apart and her sword pressing a thin line of blood onto his throat. Abby's chest heaved but his hands held the sword at bay. Barely. Romance said his name and Zoey glanced over to see Mira holding him fully back with an arm over his chest. Abby huffed with laughter.

"Don't worry about me, Ro'." he gloated, his voice slightly husky with the fight. "She won't kill me."

"Want to bet?" Rumi asked, her voice low and dangerous. Zoey really, really didn't like the grin that spread slow over his face. Mystery shuddered beside her.

"Yeah, sweetheart, I want to bet. What did we just prove other than that I'm pretty much human now?"

"You don't fight like…"

"If I'd fought properly you know damn well this place would be completely busted by now. I fought with all I got and all I got is human. You Hunters kill humans too, now?"

Reality was a cold bucket of water over Zoey's anger and she heard Mira curse silently. Rumi didn't back away immediately, just slowly sat up to rest her sword over Abby's chest. There was no doubt that she could slit his throat in a second if she wanted to. He kept that smug grin on his face, curling his fingers around her calves in a poorly disguised attempt to give himself leverage if she lunged at him.

"You're right," she said finally. "You are almost human, close enough to give us pause. But," she continued as he opened his mouth. "That also means you know damn well you don't stand a chance against us as you are."

"Says who?"

"Says me. You said you weren't going to let me in, look how that went."

"Pfft, yeah but you all but attacked me, that doesn't count!"

"You were being an asshole."

"You'll notice that happens quite often, yeah. Ro' has properly spoiled all of you if you've forgotten that being assholes is kind of our thing."

"What do you want?" Romance asked, interrupting. They looked over at him.

"What are you talking about?" Mira asked, clearly realising she was all but hugging him from behind and dropping her hold like he was on fire.

"To not kill him, to give your word - what do you want?"

"Are you…bargaining with us?" Zoey asked. She'd almost got used to Mystery's breath on her neck, body curled around her so his face was in the crook of her shoulder. The imminent danger was enough to stop her from really feeling anything about it at all. Much.

"Well obviously." Abby replied from under Rumi. "We've all just figured out that you hold all the cards here - guess you're going to fleece us for all we have, huh?"

The girls were quiet for a moment.

"Not to be repetitive, but what are you talking about?" Rumi responded after a moment. "This whole thing has been us trying to work together, why would you think we would take advantage?"

"Well why the hell wouldn't you?" Abby retorted. "We're basically your pets at this point, so answer Romance - what is the price for your magnanimous mercy?"

"There won't be a price."

They all looked at Zoey, who tried to look at Mystery but his face was too close, now raised from her neck to shake his fringe over his face. They waited for him to elaborate but he just pressed closer to her. She looked at her girls, who both gave her blank looks, then looked to Romance. His eyes were wide, but he nodded at her like he was urging her on.

"What do you mean, Mystery?" she asked softly.

"You won't take advantage." He repeated. "I know."

"How do you know?" Abby asked, his anger abrasive after Mystery's softness. "How could you possibly know that - look what they did to Romance…"

"They should have put him down." Mystery interrupted. However quiet it was, it was more than enough to stop Abby in his tracks.

"Put him down?" Mira asked. "What, like a dog?"

Mystery nodded, another full body tremble going from his jaw to the tips of his fingers around Zoey's hand.

"Yes." he said. There was no tremor in his voice anymore, just quiet certainty. "They should have put him down. They didn't."

"What the fuck are you…."

Abby stopped mid sentence, rocking his head back with his eyes closed against the matting for a moment as he breathed. When he opened them again there was a steadiness in them that had been distinctly lacking ever since the girls had come down. "I don't get what you're telling me, M. I need a little more."

Even though she couldn't see his eyes, Zoey could tell that Mystery was looking up at him, taking reassurance from the fact that Abby was trying to control his temper for him before hiding behind his hair again.

"They are Hunters. We are demons. Every moment we are alive in this world is a moment too long. We do not belong here. They should have put him down, then he wouldn't be up here where he shouldn't be. But they didn't. So they won't."

There was a moment of quiet as they all processed what he'd said. The logic, however brutal, was sound. Zoey was immediately awash in questions as to where this attitude had come from, why Mystery was so much more in mourning over his demon side and yet clearly knew that they were things of Hell, things that threatened the mortal world just by being here. There was a self-knowledge there, an assumption of evil, that made her feel very uncomfortable. She realised that she was squeezing his hand back and she couldn't remember when she'd started doing that. Her thumb came up to gently stroke his knuckles, her daggers long gone. He breathed long and slow, holding himself a little away but clearly not wanting to let go completely.

"Let's go upstairs." she said, finally. It surprised her, as it clearly surprised the others.

"Upstairs?" Mira asked.

"Yes. Let's actually talk whilst sitting on actual sofas. Plus the coffee maker is better up there and I think we could all use some, no?"

"You're right." she heard Rumi say and the knot of nerves dissipated. "If we're going to do this I think we need to start again."

"Aren't you worried we'll escape?" Abby asked. Rumi scoffed.

"You underestimate our security. Demons are nothing to stans if they put their minds to it."

"You're right!" Romance replied, draping himself back over Mira, much to her annoyance. "Some of the fans we had would have fit in well with the Howlers back in Hell…"

Zoey listened to him pull the conversation back into a more peaceful banter, noticing Rumi standing up and hesitating, clearly torn between just leaving and offering Abby her hand to get up. He made the choice for her, rolling away and the opportunity was lost.

Mystery took another long breath beside her and she looked over at him, watching as his body reset itself from whatever it had been going through. She couldn't help it.

"Are you ok?" she whispered, leaning in a little. His head jerked - she figured that was him being surprised. He shook his head a little again, his hair moving over his eyes. It was lank from lack of washing, but there was still only the odd flash of eyes underneath. He nodded.

"Do I need to let go of your hand?" he whispered back. Zoey's stomach flipped. Oh yeah, there it was.

"Um.." she stuttered, realising she was blushing. "I mean, you don't have to, but I don't want you to think you have to hold my hand to make me stick up for you, you know? I want you to do what you want to do because I don't need anything from you to try and help you, it's not some kind of transaction…"

He chuckled. Chuckled. As in, his chest went up and down a little and there was a low little rumble and Zoey's face might have exploded.

"I would like to hold your hand." he said, running his finger over the sensitive pad of her thumb.

Zoey thought she might have replied. Or maybe she didn't. All she knew is that she walked up the stairs to the lounge on the upper floor hand in hand with Mystery from the Saja Boys and felt like a fan at her first boy-band signing. Perhaps Rumi was right - they really needed to spend some more time around men.

There was a strange, strained sense of hospitality when they got upstairs. It was second nature to the girls to provide for their guests but it felt forced and stilted. Abby was sulking, Mystery seemed glued to Zoey's side and whilst Romance and Mira tried valiantly to 'manners' their way out of the awkwardness, it still led to them all sitting on the large corner sofas cradling their coffees and sipping them like their lives depended on it. Zoey only knew the boys were throwing glances at each other because she kept catching them when she and the girls were throwing the same glances. At one point she nearly burst out laughing because of how ridiculous it was that six of the most famous idols of the year were sitting in awkward silence because none of them could figure out what to say to each other.

"Well," Abby said after a while. Zoey and Mystery jumped in unison. She tried hard not to take that personally but could feel her cheeks reddening. "I usually enjoy a good awkward silence but this is ridiculous."

"Almost like Hunters and demons shouldn't get on." Romance added mildly. Rumi exhaled through her nose and Zoey felt a rush of affection and relief - trust their fearless leader to take on this challenge.

"That's just the point, isn't it?" she asked. "Everything is saying that we shouldn't. And yet, I can't find one person here who hasn't been hurt in some way by the demon king. Regardless of the choices we made or didn't make, despite the fact that some of us have been under his thumb and some of us working constantly in his shadow - he has taken something from all of us. Can we at least agree on that?"

The silence was different this time, all of them lost in thought. When Zoey cast a quick look at Abby, she saw his eyebrows furrow and felt a flash of bright white corridors, medical-grade disinfectant and bitter regret. It left an acid taste on her tongue.

'Where does that leave us though, dear Rumi?" Romance asked softly. She looked at him, all hero and understanding.

"We cannot in good conscious let you loose, Romance."

"If anyone cares, which Mystery seems to think you do, I don't really want to be let go." he replied. Abby's head jerked up at him. "I've had more than a taste of not being in control of myself, of losing myself in something I though I could defeat. If being here keeps me from that, I'm more than happy to be here. But I can't ignore what you've done to the boys."

He gestured elegantly at Abby and Mystery. Rumi nodded, brushing a finger over her lips.

"I understand. I do. Which suggests what we said before - that you stay here and we try and work out what happened together. Try to fix it together. But in order to do that you're going to have to trust us. Just a little. Just enough to stay."

"So we try and help you fix us and we stay here with Romance." Abby repeated.

"I thought you didn't want to be fixed." Mira said. He looked at her, then at Mystery.

"Honestly, I don't really care either way. But some people do, so I guess I'm happy to go with that."

"You're weirdly relaxed about this."

He smiled at Mira, something bitter in his smile.

"I've been damned a long time, sweetheart - selling what's left of my soul to you is nothing compared to the deals I've made before. If it makes M happy, I'm happy."

"That simple, huh?"

"Yup."

He held Mira's accusatory gaze - all open and honest, nothing to hide. Zoey believed him, she realised. She really believed him.

"And what about your whole 'Rumi killed Jinu' thing?" she asked before she lost her nerve. It had been a question on the tip of her tongue since she'd started thinking about how they were going to function together and now was the time she had to ask it. She watched Rumi jump and tried to ignore it, this was important. "How do we know you're not just waiting to punish her for that?"

He took a moment, clearly actually thinking about her question. It was testament to all of them, Zoey thought, that they all kept quiet and let him. He finally nodded.

"Because she could kick my ass in a second." he said, straight faced. "Like, really - I'm pretty sure I'm going to bruise for the first time in years. I'm not so dumb as to throw myself at someone who could bench press me with her little damn finger."

Zoey was surprised enough she laughed.

"Just like that?" she asked. He grinned at her, guileless and knowing how attractive it made him.

"Yup."

"You can't stay in the Pit, though." Mira interrupted.

"I mean, Romance has already claimed one of the side rooms, maybe we could adapt the others." Rumi suggested, all strategy.

"But they don't have any windows!" Zoey protested. "If they're going to stay here, they should at least…"

"I like no windows. And one door. Only one way in. That's good for me."

Once again, Mystery's quietly stated sentence reduced them all to silence.

"Aw," Abby cooed after a moment. "There's our little cave troll."

Mystery bristled a little. Zoey was horrified to see that his beautiful, cherry-like lips were pouting slightly.

"I'm not a cave troll."

"You're a very beautiful cave troll."

"…..ok."

"Fine!" Romance sighed dramatically. "But if I'm going to be confined to one of your little cells I'm going to need someone's Naver account."

"…a Naver account?" Mira asked incredulously. Romance put an offended hand on his chest.

"Of course! Baby introduced Jinu and I to it during our debut - I'm going to want to decorate. And all of the hideous gym stuff is going to have to go, too. Oh, and we're going to need clothes."

"Clothes?"

Zoey could almost see the vein popping at Mira's temple and loyally tried to stifle a snigger.

"Of course! Look at these two. Look at me! If we're going to be staying with you, darling, I'm going to need a nice room and some proper clothes. You wouldn't want to keep them in rags, would you? Would you be so cruel?"

Zoey watched as Mira tried valiantly to resist Romance's sudden puppy-eyes and felt Rumi snort behind her.

"We can get you a Naver account, Romance." she reassured him, laughter dancing in her voice. "And I'm sure we can get you all some clothes."

"Well as long as I'm the one choosing." he said loftily. "There's a reason why I was put in charge of the outfits, you know."

"Oh yeah, Baby was real pleased with all the pastels, really…"

"Oh do shut up, Abs - he liked it really."

"Do you really have to call him actual 'abs'?"

"Why? Distracted, sweetheart?"

"Put your damn shirt down."

Mira, Abby and Romance started bickering gently and Zoey started losing the battle to contain her laughter. She felt a head thump onto her shoulder and looked over to see Rumi's back shaking with laughter.

"What have we just signed up to?" she asked. Zoey snorted and clenched Mystery's hand. It clenched back and he leaned over so that his whisper reached them both.

"This is only the beginning," he whispered. Ominously.

Rumi groaned and collapsed with her face in Zoey's lap. Zoey laughed and felt Mystery snicker beside her against her other arm. It should have felt strange, not natural. It really, really should. Really.

Chapter Text

Mira knew they should never have allowed Romance access to a Naver account.

The girls were woken the next day by a call from a very harried delivery driver wondering if they could give him the code to the lift and permission to hold doors because he had so much in the van. She watched open-mouthed as curtains, pictures, bedding and even the odd armchair came through the door of the Snug and down to the Pit. Zoey had at least persuaded the boys to hide in one of the rooms, giving away an obscene number of take-away doughnuts and kimbap to keep them quiet enough for the delivery men to put everything on the matting. The repairers for the window had also come and it was only the speed and training of the Hunters that kept the demons busy for long enough that they didn't cause a disturbance. Mira didn't want to think about the moment that Abby announced he had to pee and they had to have a full war council to decide how to sneak him out. She personally thought the bastard was making it up to fuck with them. His smug smile at the very least suggested it. His definitely ugly, not-in-any-way-dreamy smug smile. Yes. That one.

The three of them ended up sitting, slightly stunned, on the floor of the Pit, listening to Romance command his two demon-brothers in setting up the room. Abby had looked out at them slightly pleadingly at one point, but Mira took an indulgent pleasure in smiling smugly right back at him over her steaming coffee mug and refusing to get up to help. Mystery had also tried to sneak out - Romance's crowing warning for him not to 'creep into the lap of your Hunter-lady-friend' pulling Mystery back in and making Zoey turn a fetching shade of pink. Mira was going to ask her about it, especially the part where Mystery had been all but attached to her all morning, but when she tried to do so Zoey stuffed an entire sugared doughnut into her mouth and then inhaled by mistake - somewhere through the consequent coughing and patting her on the back Mira decided it wasn't worth it quite yet.

It was a very strange feeling when Rumi's phone rang just after noon, Bobby's face popping up on her screen. Like two worlds colliding in the strangest of ways - she thought she'd got used to it after all these years, but apparently something about watching a trio of demons do interior decorating on their new room made the whole thing very surreal.

Bobby was worried about the acoustic album, asking in his gentle, pleading way how the girls were getting on with the arrangements and new material. They all shared guilty looks as Rumi assured him (utterly untruthfully) that everything was going well and that they were just putting the final touches on things. The forced cheeriness in Bobby's face said he didn't believe them but had decided to have faith in them, which honestly was one of the most effective guilt-tripping exercises Mira had ever encountered. That included her own mother, which was honestly saying something. Still, Rumi didn't need to say anything out loud as she hung up the phone and shared a look with them both - none of them felt like song-writing right now.

It was Zoey who came up with a compromise - she'd been inspired by the mash-ups they'd ended up creating at the stadium a few nights ago. Rumi immediately tensed up, but when Zoey assured her that she just wanted to learn this song they kept singing - not even to necessarily put it in the album, she relaxed a little. It would at least get their fingers on the guitar strings, right? Mira's heart swelled in her chest as she watched Rumi agree, took in her deep breath to calm herself, the squeeze of her fingers in Mira's hand. She could almost see the old Rumi wanting to keep this intimate pain to herself, drawn out by the new Rumi to reluctantly allow Mira and Zoey to see. She knew that brand of bravery, knew how it felt like pressing a knife to your own heart and leaving it there for anyone to just pick up and use. Memories of Rumi - quiet, gentle, relentless Rumi - working subtly and tirelessly to teach Mira that no one was going to harm her with it fluttered into her mind. She would do the same for Rumi, now. She was determined.

They left a note for the boys on the kettle in the small kitchen and left the Pit just as Romance started directing Abby and Mystery in exactly where to hang the modern-style calligraphy prints he'd picked up. Under the stairs that led up to the second floor of the flat was a larger door - thick and well protected. This one had needed less explaining. Behind the Pit, taking up the rest of the floor, was their other training area. It comprised of a full mirrored dance studio, three sound studios and a break room Zoey had insisted on calling the Brain because it was where they ended up creating most of their lyrics. One whole wall was covered with inspiration images and post-it notes, guitars and portable keyboards leant up against another, notebooks upon notebooks piled up in corners and under the bench seats. Then, of course, there was their costume wardrobe - that had its own locked door, as there was probably enough money in that room in the form of sequins and leather to make even Mira squint. Not many people got to come back here - they'd done the odd open-house for a few TV shows, but only the dance studio, costume store and a few of the sound studios. Never the Brain. Their hobby rooms were in here, too - on the other side of the tower to the Pit at the front. Zoey had felt very indulgent at first, having a whole room dedicated to her random shit, but then Mira had dangled the idea of inbuilt shelves and a foldaway craft table that could store all of her bits and pieces and her eyes had started literally glittering. Those rooms were one of the few spaces that they kept relatively separate from each other - Mira had been in both, of course, but only with express permission and not very often. After the last few months it had started feeling uncomfortable again, but she was willing to wait that out. Everyone needed their own space.

It took Rumi three tries to get through the song. They'd cuddled up in the Brain to do it with hot mugs of ginger tea, the sweet tang of added honey soothing to voices that had done a little too much a few days ago. They held her when she finally finished it, passing tissues between each other, one kissing the tears off her face and the other getting her to blow her nose. Like the three of them were one entity. Rumi told them about when she'd sung it - how she hadn't intended to and certainly hadn't expected him to join her. How, in movies, holding someone's hand was supposed to be the moment that you realised that they were real, but Rumi had almost felt the opposite - his hand sliding into hers had made her feel real instead, like there was finally someone who knew all of her. And as he knew her, so she must exist. So she could exist.

They'd eventually distracted her by concentrating on technicalities - Zoey taking down the lyrics and Mira and Rumi working out the chords. She could see Rumi dedicate herself to it - losing herself in chord progression and melody and harmony, taking the sting out of it. Mira made sure she demonstrated, often and enthusiastically, that this didn't take anything away from her experience with this song, that it didn't mean she was losing anything. What she had shared with Jinu that night still made Mira's skin itch, but if it meant something to Rumi, then it would damn well mean something to her. The way Rumi looked at her, looked over at Zoey scribbling away in one of her notebooks, was all she needed to remind herself that it didn't threaten what she and Rumi had. What the three of them had. Some craven little part of her wanted to believe that Rumi only felt this way about Jinu because he had given her something she and Zoey hadn't had the opportunity to give her yet, that if they had then Rumi wouldn't have needed Jinu at all. Deep down, though, she was a realist. Even if that were so, it didn't matter now. She was just going to have to deal with that.

In the end, Zoey was right. Working on Rumi's song, (which they'd obviously called 'Free', for the chorus as well as the warm smile on Rumi's face when she spoke about it) had indeed got them in a better place to concentrate on the new acoustic album. Zoey (often the leader for their focus in these sessions) was inspired to work on the new Takedown version. The changed lyrics at least - Takedown and How It's Done had been hard enough to pivot to acoustic that they had gone to Bobby a few weeks ago. There was a British song-writer coming to collaborate with them in a couple of weeks, hence the pressure to get the songs at least ready to show her. Mira could admit to being intimidated by her, no matter how friendly her social media posts seemed to be. Her resume was impressive, spanning everything from Eurovision entries to the UK charts.

It all became important, all of a sudden. Like a familiar switch had been flicked, the Hunters receded and Huntr/x arrived in their place. It was still like a dance, the way they worked. As Mira watched Rumi overcome her fears and words bubbled up through her own heart, she handed off her guitar to Zoey and started scribbling. Something about the contrast - of watching her lover be strong and brave, fearful and conquering that fear, mixed with the softness of Rumi's skin, vulnerability of her when Mira had her laid out on their bed - there was something there - a song, a poem, a fucking psalm for all that she wished to worship at Rumi's feet. Well. Maybe not her feet.

Rumi didn't object when Mira caught her gaze, but her breath caught in her throat at the intensity of it. Mira didn't know if it was a continuation of the other night or the mention of Jinu and the slide of his skin against Rumi's, but Mira suddenly needed to put her pen down. Needed to be lost in the hot claustrophobia of Rumi's thighs, eyes closed and mouth open, taste flooding her mouth. The feelings warred in her, images broiling inside her of Rumi and Jinu almost like she herself was Jinu, could feel the electric touch of that holding of hands like it was her own skin, mouth drying with the knowledge that she had the right to slide between Rumi's legs, part them with her hands, set her mouth open and wanting over the seam of Rumi's jeans and sucking, hard. Rumi's body shuddered and arched above her and Mira didn't know if the jolt of desire to her own clit was satisfied desire or yearning. Didn't know if the longing to take her with the nearest strap was her own or where the strange frustration at not being able to feel Rumi riding the strap like it was her own cock came from. Or maybe she did.

That particular feeling faded as Rumi hastily pushed her jeans down her legs, Mira helping her roll the fabric over her feet. Retreated, yes, but didn't disappear. Mira decided not to dwell on it too much, too eager to deny that there was anything inside her apart from herself to entertain the idea that her desires weren't her own. All of a sudden it became enough to lean up, capture Rumi's mouth with her own whilst she reached between the trembling vice of Rumi's thighs and toyed with the fluttering, clenching temptation of her hole before sinking her fingers deep. Rumi broke away from the kiss with a gasp and Mira's mouth went dry again, Rumi's hands grasping at where Mira's shoulders had been as Mira dipped back down between her legs, clamping her mouth over Rumi's clit and sucking hard and merciless as she curled those fingers deep within her. Rumi's hips arched off the bench and the strange desires were gone, clouded, replaced by a longing Mira knew well enough she knew exactly how to kneel on her own heels so she could press her own core against them, relieve some of the pressure building in her.

Rumi wasn't completely helpless, of course. Laughing at her own susceptibility, she soon turned on her 'Leader' voice, instructing Zoey to read from her lyrics notebook whilst she rode Rumi's thigh.

Mira often wondered if there wasn't something meditative about this. She'd tried meditation before, of course, and knew the theory - repeat an action long enough it becomes instinctive, allowing the mind to wander. It always seemed to be something very boring though - maintaining a garden, Tai Chi, threading beads into a bracelet. What about this, settling onto her knees as her mouth opened and eyes closed, her tongue moving and flicking, conscious mind turned down so all she could feel was Rumi's body against her? Every ripple connected to her next movement, every hitch of breath and press of tongue, every shudder a nip of her teeth? To allow her mind to go quiet and passive, allowing whatever thoughts that came to her to stay and play in her mind, nonthreatening? An observer to her own desires.

By the time Zoey's voice broke and her body jerked against Rumi's leg and strong arm around her waist, by the time that Rumi rose against Mira's mouth, fingers tangling in her hair, Mira had already begun the lyrics of the next song. By the time she allowed herself to be pushed down onto the plush carpet, Zoey's clever fingers trilling against her, dipping inside her, Rumi's tongue in her mouth, hands on her breasts, kneading, pulling, squeezing - by the time Mira arched against them both her fingers were itching for a pen and paper. She lost herself in the sensation, body relaxed by pleasure and mind relaxed by the knowledge that, when she recovered and immediately reached for a notebook that the reaction from her lovers would be amusement and affection, arousal and understanding. For one, blissful moment, there were no demons or music executives, no fans or victims. Even the sultry, lurking memory of her fingers around a strong throat, a clothed cock straining against the thin protection of her leggings, wasn't enough to phase her. She gathered her girls to her even as she reached for the pen, inspiration lodged in her mind full of strength and love and bravery. Rumi's hand rested, possessive and familiar on her thigh, Zoey's nose a tickle at her neck. The bridge of the chorus 'My heart in three…' would read as a girl-power and the strength of friendship and she didn't care. Somehow her job let her shout to the world how deeply she belonged to the women on either side of her. For this acoustic album, where the vibe was vulnerability and intimacy? She wanted to tread the line between sisterhood and sapphism. She wanted to haunt the comment section and read the conspiracy theories. Rumi had long persuaded her against displaying their love for all to see, but, just for now, she was going to tempt fate.

If there was anything to learn from the three men a few rooms away, it was that it was possible to leave it too late.