Archive of Our Own

Chapter Text

Hold your ground, Jinu had said. It was the last thing he was able to say before Gwi-Ma turned up the heat and the entire world seemed to be filled with nothing but his pained screams and choking gasps.

Rumi feels as though she’s in a loop— eternally stuck in this moment, a torture of its own. It goes on and on and on— burning, screaming, just enough to leave him in agony but not enough to kill, too practiced that Rumi knows it’s not the first time he’s done this. Not on other demons and not on Jinu.

Her throat aches. Tears spring to her eyes but in the surrounding heat, they seem to evaporate on the spot. Rumi strains against the chains anchoring her to the ground, unable to get any closer, but even if she could, what would she even be able to do? The fire is coming from all sides, Rumi wouldn’t be able to block it. All she could do is burn with him.

But aren’t you going to do that anyways? Her mind murmurs. The least you can do is hold onto each other when the lights go out.

Time is lost on her. Jinu could be burning for hours, minutes, or just a few seconds. He writhes at first but eventually peeters out. The screams become more of a wordless, breathless noise. Energy is lost, burned up in the fire, but only when it recedes does Jinu collapse. Burned, broken, motionless. If he were human, he might not be able to take much more, but he’s not. Rumi wonders if that’s worse.

No easy way out. Gwi-Ma makes sure of that.

“Well?” Gwi-Ma says, voice calm, almost casual, as if he has not scorched what feels like every inch of exposed skin of Jinu’s body and transformed him into a canvas of burn scars. Rumi didn’t think it was possible to hate him more, and yet. “Ready to listen?”

Fuck you, Rumi almost spits. If I had my sword, we would be learning how well it works on you. If I could free everyone of you, even by dying, I would do it in a heartbeat.

No words leave her lips however. Rumi already refused him once. Now Jinu is scarcely breathing. It doesn’t take a genius to know what happens if she shows open defiance again.

No need to make this any harder on Jinu than it already will be.

“Your new Honmoon may be strong now, but it will grow weak again eventually. Why does it matter if you’re the one to give us an opening? Who could blame you?”

Lips pressed tightly together. Heart pounding in her chest. Rumi doesn’t let her gaze waver. Neither shows submission nor defiance. Completely neutral. Standing her ground.

She has to trust Jinu about that. For all of their sakes.

“Don’t you want to go home, Hunter? You’ll be eaten alive if you remain down here. I’m sure your fellow Hunters will understand.”

Silence, aside from the crackle of fire and the blood roaring in her ears. Rumi flexes her hand, missing her sword. Her power. Her friends. Her Honmoon. Her world. The glowing shackles around her wrists cuts off half of those things, and being trapped down here cuts her off from the rest.

She misses Jinu too, even if he’s right here with her. It doesn’t feel like he is.

Gwi-Ma sighs in a way that feels too theatrical to be genuine. “Very well,” he says as the fire rises again. Rumi’s heart leaps and lodges itself in her throat, making it difficult to breathe. “Let’s try that again.”

The flames gravitate towards Jinu, as if he’s a particularly appealing piece of kindling. The gasping choke he lets out once it reaches him, quite possibly ripping him out of unconsciousness, will haunt her for the rest of her days.

—

After two more tries to pry anything out of her, Gwi-Ma has Rumi thrown into one of the cells below. Jinu is tossed in with her, carelessly, as if he’s nothing but a charred log of firewood.

His skin is tough and cracked to touch. The bile she swallows back down is sour and scorching on her throat. There’s no bandages in the cell, no burn cream, not a lick of first aid to be found. Even if there was, Rumi isn’t sure there’s much she could do. If she could use any of it, if it would help at all.

The only thing she can think to do is pull Jinu into the far corner with her and lay his head on her lap. The only comfort she can provide is staying here with him, keeping him close, a wordless promise to watch over him.

As if Rumi could do anything to stop it if Gwi-Ma’s lackeys returned for him. As if she could save anyone when she can’t even save herself.

Her eyes shut, too exhausted to cry. What should’ve been a triumph against Gwi-Ma has become the opposite. A new Honmoon, iridescent above their heads, now out of her reach. Rumi had been flying, Jinu’s soul still nestled in her chest, and she was going to be the one to strike Gwi-Ma down. She felt boundless with the crowd’s support and Mira and Zoey beside her.

She should’ve known Gwi-Ma would have the last laugh.

Jinu’s soul was still bound to the one who stole it from him. When Gwi-Ma pulled, Rumi refused to let go. She went right down with him.

The world is safe once more, but Rumi has no celebration bathhouse trip to go to. There is only fire, malice, and pain. And Rumi wishes she were anywhere else, but if she were not here, Jinu would be alone. She doesn’t wish this on anyone.

Except, maybe, the one who caused it.

Nothing about the small cell of rock and metal is comfortable, but Rumi rests her head against the wall and resists the urge to lay a hand on Jinu’s face. He’s quiet, but not dead. Gwi-Ma can’t kill his leverage, but Rumi doesn’t like the alternative any more.

It’s no surprise that the demon king has a deal for her: break the Honmoon she worked so hard to create, or Jinu suffers. There is no good choice, no winning here. Jinu however, insisted on which she should choose. To hold firm, no matter what he does to him. Said that Gwi-Ma would do so much worse if she gave him a path to the surface.

She knows he’s right. It doesn’t make it any easier.

Rumi doesn’t think she’ll ever get his screams out of her head.

It’s a day that never seems to end— first the Idol Awards, now this. Rumi doesn’t think she has any more emotion left to spare. Drained, in every sense of the word.

Her eyes shut. Rumi doesn’t feel the moment she drifts, only the moment she wakes back up.

Nothing has visibly changed once she has. Rumi’s heart speeds up on its own but a few deep breaths help slow it. She doesn’t feel all that refreshed but she doesn’t think she could go back to sleep again. The cell they threw them in is uncomfortably humid.

All is quiet for a while. Then Rumi hears approaching footsteps and her heart speeds up. She hovers a protective arm over Jinu, willing to bite and claw and rip into anything that tries to take him. The cell door opening only makes her hackles raise more.

But then a tray is unceremoniously dropped on the ground and the door is quickly shut again. Rumi can’t move for a long while, until the fading steps are completely gone.

The tray has a water skin. And a small, cracked bowl of rice.

She has to move Jinu slightly to get it but it’s worth it. Rumi takes half the water skin for herself before carefully attempting to give some to Jinu. His mouth is parted slightly, allowing her an opening, but when she gives him too much, he chokes and spits it back up. Rumi is forced to give him a tiny bit at a time, no matter how minuscule it feels. That, if nothing else, he can keep down.

The bowl of rice comes with no utensils. If he had so much trouble getting water down, even rice feels out of the question. Rumi swallows thickly but scoops up some of the rice with her hands and quietly eats it that way.

It’s gone in under a minute. Rumi didn’t realize how hungry she was until she started eating.

He needs you physically strong enough to break it. Rumi’s mind says. But mentally weak enough to succumb to his persuasion.

It’s an insight into Gwi-Ma that Rumi almost wishes she didn’t know. Because now she thinks of the Idol Awards— Jinu, eyes dead, voice empty, but with not a scratch on him physically. And Rumi knows what she did not before. What happened after he promised to help her.

Bowl now empty, Rumi pushes it, and the rest of the tray, away. The water skin is kept close— there’s still a tiny bit left in it. Her eyes shut again, even if sleep won’t be coming to her anytime soon, and Rumi thinks about who she has to do this for. For Zoey and Mira, for Bobby, for Celine, for every single one of their fans who almost walked directly into the fire while under Gwi-Ma’s spell. Rumi has to be practical— even if she did give in, Gwi-Ma might just kill them both on the spot, no longer having a use for them.

The pros outweigh the cons.

But, looking at what he’s done to Jinu over the course of what was probably an hour or less, the cons are pretty fucking heavy too.

Rumi feels heartless. Helpless. Completely out of her depth. Nothing but her own wit and will to survive down here. It doesn’t feel like enough.

But it has to be, because Rumi can’t doom the world a second time. She hurt the Honmoon once, never again.

Damned if she does. Damned if she doesn’t.

“…How do you do it?” Rumi whispers to a demon who won’t answer— can’t answer. “Four-hundred years of him. How did you not lose your mind?”

Despite it all, she can hear his response, like he’s haunting her even though he’s still breathing. The way he laughs, too self deprecating to be genuine, and shakes his head with that cheeky little smile of his.

Without losing my mind? Jinu would say. You’re asking the wrong guy, Rumi. Most people don’t do the things I’ve done.

But it’s okay. It’s what people like me deserve.

I left them, Rumi. I left them.

“That doesn’t mean you deserve this.” She says back, to a phantom that doesn’t even exist. “Nobody deserves this.”

You’re too kind to me, Rumi. He would say.

“Someone has to be, when you aren’t to yourself.” She replies.

Not even the phantom has a good reply to that.

—

Rumi receives more water but not more food after a while. Waiting has her tense, which might be the point. Imagining what Gwi-Ma might do next, a form of self-torture. Even knowing this, it’s hard not to.

She’s there for a while. Longer than she expects. Rumi gets a singular bowl of rice twice more in what she can only assume are two days before Jinu finally rouses. His body has slowly been trying to heal itself, demonic power stitching him back together. Even with the time given, he’s in pretty bad shape.

But after potential days of nothing, Rumi immediately feels the first twitch. The soft groan, exhaling from his lips. She doesn’t mean to overwhelm him but she can’t help it— Rumi immediately asks, “Jinu? Jinu! Can you hear me?”

Jinu lets out a low, gravelly hum. His voice is damaged but he speaks anyway. “Hi.”

“Hi.” Rumi whispers back. He shifts again so Rumi quickly warns, “Don’t move too much. Here, I have water.”

“‘m fine.”

“Jinu.” Rumi says, having none of the patience for it. “I saved this for you. I already had mine. Either you drink or I’m dumping it.”

For all his self-hatred, Jinu’s wish to not see clean water go to waste is stronger. He opens his mouth a little and doesn’t protest the assistance Rumi offers. She can give him more now that he’s awake so she lets him have the rest of what she’s been saving, hoping it might soothe his scorched throat.

“Mmm.” Jinu hums when it’s all gone. His voice has marginally improved. “Thanks.”

“It’s the least I can do. You got tortured because of me.”

“Mmmmno.” Jinu cracks an eye open to look up at her. She doesn’t get to see his golden eyes very often. They’re weary but still shine like tiny, close-up stars. “I got tortured because of me. You just got dragged down with me.”

“If I wasn’t here, he might’ve killed you on the spot.”

“And now we both might die.” Jinu attempts to shrug and regrets it. “Ow. You— you know what I’m saying. This isn’t good either.”

“No.” Rumi agrees. “I hate seeing you get hurt.”

“I know. He knows. It’s why he’s doing this.” Jinu’s gaze doesn’t stray from her face, even for a moment. “I know it looks bad— and I can’t lie, it is— but stay strong. Don’t give in.”

“I know.” She knows all too well.

“At least I don’t have to hear him in my head anymore. It’s been quiet ever since I gave you my soul.”

Albeit weak and sad, Rumi cracks a smile. “That’s a plus.”

“Mmhmm. And demons heal from everything non-lethal eventually. So my hair will grow back in time.”

Rumi looks down at him, eyes narrowed. “I don’t care about that, Jinu. I watched you get burned alive, that’s not exactly my first priority.”

Jinu laughs, that little self-deprecating laugh of his. See? Hopeless. “I bet you miss having an infuriatingly handsome face to look at though, don’t deny it.”

She exhales, carefully laying a hand on his face, trying not to upset his damaged, hairless skin. “I miss when you weren’t hurt.”

His eyes shut. “I don’t think I can promise that anytime soon.” Jinu tells her honestly. It only makes the ache in her heart grow heavier.

—

The next time they get rice, Rumi shares it. Jinu chews slowly but surely, and lays his head down on her afterwards. He’s eerily quiet but Rumi doesn’t blame him. She doesn’t have anything else to say either.

Two or so hours later, multiple footsteps approach their cell, and Rumi knows that their fragile peace is broken once more.

Chains are placed on both of them, connected to their shackles and keeping their wrists together. The demon leading Jinu out yanks on the chain connected to his wrists, causing him to stumble and nearly tip over. Before Rumi knows what she’s doing, she snarls, teeth bared, and the other demons all take a half step back.

Rumi doesn’t know which is more surprising: the noise she made or the fact that even imprisoned like this, other demons are still afraid of her. Her status as Hunter hasn’t diminished.

Nonetheless, Rumi stays close to Jinu, offering her support so he can walk a little faster without having to worry about balance. She hates to walk towards what she knows is more torment, but resisting will only make things worse. The longer either of them can hold on, the better.

…Rumi doesn’t know what she’s waiting for. She doesn’t have an exit strategy— Gwi-Ma is too focused on them. She has no allies down here. Mira and Zoey have no way of knowing where she is or how to get to her. If there’s a way for both of them to escape, Rumi hasn’t found it.

There is one way out, her mind whispers. But you know the cost of taking his deal.

The trip from their cell to Gwi-Ma’s throne is too short. Rumi is forced to kneel as her chains are linked to a metal loop in the ground. Jinu is taken a little closer to Gwi-Ma before he’s forced to do the same. He stays quiet, still, compliant. Jinu keeps his head down, only sparing a single glance her way.

He looks tired, and yet, the message he sends is clear. The same as it was last time.

Hold your ground.

“Hunter, welcome back.” Gwi-Ma greets, tone deceptively friendly. “Have you given my offer any more thought?”

“I’m not hurting the Honmoon.” Rumi sounds steadier than she feels. Gwi-Ma hums, like he expected that answer.

“Why don’t we see if I can persuade you otherwise?”

She expects fire. Footsteps returning takes her off guard. However once she sees a group of different sized demons, claws out or carrying weapons, she understands.

Jinu’s pupils narrow into slits. For a split second, his whole face is hardened. Then it morphs into something more wide-eyed right before her eyes. The cry he lets out when the first demon slashes their sword into his shoulder makes Rumi’s heart jump.

They surround him on all sides and tear into him. Nowhere lethal but relentless nonetheless. Blood steadily covers him, his chains, and the ground. Pained grunts and whimpers fill the air as Jinu cowers as much as he’s allowed. All while Rumi can do nothing but watch.

She hates the way Gwi-Ma smiles. She hates the way the demons doing it almost seem to take joy in doing so. She hates the audience surrounding the bottom of the throne, witnessing everything but not doing anything about it.

But she hates that Jinu is the one taking a beating most of all.

As if suddenly commanded in a way she can’t hear or see, the aggressive demons suddenly stop. Jinu slumps, breathing raggedly, but still breathing.

Of course he is— Gwi-Ma knows he can’t get you to do anything if he’s dead.

Gwi-Ma has no visible eyes, and yet, Rumi gets the feeling his gaze hasn’t left hers for even a moment. The heat of it literally makes her sweat. “Well? Are you quite done yet?”

Are you? Rumi thinks but doesn’t say. She stares into the flames but doesn't reply.

“Guess not.” And just like that, the other demons resume tearing into him. Jinu’s cries resume.

Her silence feels complicit with it all. There is nothing Rumi hates more than inaction. If she could actually fight back, it would be a different story.

But instead, demons kick and slash and beat and rip. Jinu can do nothing but bear it, and Rumi can do nothing but watch.

After a while, it stops again, wordlessly. Gwi-Ma asks again. Rumi says nothing again.

“Do you really want to die down here, Hunter? Is this the last place you ever want to see?” He pauses but she still doesn’t answer. Gwi-Ma chuckles to himself, fire lighting up even brighter as he does, dancing with vivid pinks and darker purples. “Perhaps this is where you’re meant to be. A demon like you should’ve been here from the beginning.”

It starts again, demons stomping and cutting. More blood, more bruises, more cries.

Eventually, they’re finally returned to their cells. Jinu mumbles something incoherent about blood but Rumi shushes him. She doesn’t have much to offer but she tears a bit of cloth off her shorts, soaks it in water, and uses it to try and wipe up some of the damage.

It helps clean up some of the blood but the ripped cloth is ruined by the end of it. Rumi tosses it away, laying him down on her lap once again.

Still so much blood. Still so much broken and ripped skin. Still so much pain.

Rumi keeps him as close as she can, wishing she could do anything other than watch it happen again and again.

—

He wakes up faster this time. Rumi helps shovel rice into his mouth, imploring him to eat and drink as much as he can stomach. Jinu only protests when she tries to give him all of it, so they compromise. Half and half.

“Jinu…” Rumi whispers once they’ve both refueled. It’s not enough but anything is better than nothing. “Do you… Exaggerate any of it?” She feels horrible for saying it, until Jinu cracks a little smile.

“My Rumi…” He mumbles into her thigh. “Always so clever. Sees right through me.”

Carefully, Rumi cups his cheek and turns it up to her. Jinu looks at her through half lidded eyes.

“It does hurt.” He murmurs quietly to her. “It hurts like hell. Like nothing else you’ll ever experience naturally. But… Gwi-Ma wants me to suffer. If I’m too quiet, he makes it hurt more. Anything to rip the sound out of me. So I’ve learned it’s better to give it to him. A performance, for the king.” He smirks a little, even through cracked and bleeding lips. “A very special song, just for him. You can’t exaggerate it too much but… The pain is authentic. Makes it easier to sell. I just make myself scream a little louder.”

She doesn’t know if that makes it better or worse. “I’m sorry.” She ends up whispering back. “I wish I could stop it.”

“You can’t.” Jinu tells her. “I gave you my soul, Rumi. I knew the price I would pay for it. I was willing then and I’m willing now. Stay strong. I can take it.”

“Maybe.” Her eyes shut, a tear slipping away from her. “Maybe you can. But I don’t want you to.”

“And I don’t want you to be trapped down here with me, but neither of us are getting what we want.” A pause. A sigh. “You should’ve let me go, Rumi.”

“And let you die down here?”

“I’ve been doomed to die down here for a very long time. I didn’t want to drag you down with me.”

“You did none of that.” Rumi forces her eyes open again, a firm look sent in Jinu’s direction. “I chose to not let go. And even if I had the chance to do it all over again, I would just try to save you again.”

Jinu makes a rumbling sound, like a weak laugh coming from a dying engine. “So stubborn.” He teases. “So determined to save a damned thing like me. New patterns or not, you haven’t changed all that much, have you?”

“Guess not.” Rumi hesitates but gently leans down and presses a tiny kiss to his forehead. She still remembers what he said— she thinks he might need that reassurance that she’s not disgusted with his appearance, only struggling to see him hurt. She can only hope it’s enough. “Get all the sleep you can. I’ll wake you if I need to.”

Thankfully, this is one thing Jinu doesn’t give her any pushback with. His body is exhausted enough that he’s out like a light within the minute.

—

Water, water, rice and water, repeat. Water three times a day, rice once. It’s not hard to put it together.

Rumi has heard that some torturers intentionally feed their prisoners at random times to keep them in the dark about how long it’s been and disorient them. But Gwi-Ma is intentionally not trying to confuse them about that. He wants them to know how long it’s been. How many days they’ve been trapped down here.

Seven days, then eight, then nine. Rumi doesn’t have much to play nurse with but she manages as she can, keeping up both of their strength. Jinu recovers, much faster than if he were human but still struggles under the weight of his injuries. Not all the burns have healed. He can’t move too suddenly without risking opening up his new scars from his gashes.

A few days isn’t enough to heal completely and they all know it.

“He’s letting me heal,” Jinu murmurs, “To hurt me more. Letting you deal with the aftermath is meant to slowly break you down. It’s just a battle of wills, Rumi. I know you’re strong enough to stand up to him.”

Not when it’s you getting caught in the crossfire, Rumi swallows the words. Admitting it out loud is too much. She doesn’t want to show any sign of weakness, no matter how much she feels it inside.

Multiple sets of footsteps approach. They both know what it means.

A performance, Jinu had called it. Rumi just needs to play her part too.

The demons chain their wrists and lead them out again, this time careful enough that Rumi knows she definitely scared them last time. Rumi assumes her position but Jinu is left standing, glancing back at Rumi before staring at the ground.

Both of them wait. So far, Gwi-Ma has always proceeded the same way.

But today, he doesn’t ask anything at first. Two demons approach Jinu, both water demons, and shove him into kneeling on the ground, wrenching his arms back and holding him there. A third water demon comes, carrying a large bucket of water.

Rumi’s heart sinks. Even knowing what’s coming, it doesn’t make it any easier when they shove his head under the water and hold it there.

Gwi-Ma hums as Jinu’s body jerks, automatically reacting. “I have to wonder if you enjoy seeing him like this.” He says. “No one would blame you after what he did to you. If you want him to be hurt like he hurt you, that’s perfectly reasonable.”

“No it isn’t.” Rumi says before she can stop herself, then bites her tongue, cursing internally. Gwi-Ma’s grin widens, fire flaring to life as if she just fed him kindling.

“Oh?” Pause, silence. “Don’t go quiet on me now, Hunter. You already spoke; finish your argument. Why wouldn’t it be fair?”

It doesn’t help that she hates being silent. Jinu is thrashing now, trying to get air, but he’s too weak to overpower the demons holding him down. Rumi can’t watch— the words escape her once again in a moment of weakness. “I’m not justified if I hurt him back. And even if I was, I wouldn’t want to. What would that do?”

“Give a little catharsis? Don’t deny it, Hunter, I’ve seen through the eyes of thousands of my demons who were slaughtered by you alone. You’ve enjoyed it before. You felt justified hurting them then.”

She did. Rumi hates to give him any credit but he’s right about that. She did enjoy it. She did feel justified. Demons were heartless. Soulless. Emotionless. They weren’t people. If she killed them, she was saving the world some trouble.

“And I was wrong for enjoying it.” Rumi says steadily. “I know that now.”

“Because of a demon who lied to you.”

“About one thing.” Everything else was true. Rumi knows that much. Jinu couldn’t have faked everything, and the rest she was able to verify. Things that made too much sense.

“You can’t save a demon four-hundred years doomed, Rumi. You can’t even save yourself.”

Jinu has stopped moving. The water demons pull him out of the water, one of them forcing his mouth open with one hand and hovering the other in front of him. She hears Jinu choke, then gasp as water is pulled out of him seemingly magically by the water demon who has him. His chin is released— Jinu collapses to the ground, coughing violently.

Jinu gasps for air, once, twice, three times, then the water demons grab him once again and plunge him back in the water. Jinu’s cry is muffled by it, weakly kicking in an effort to escape. Rumi’s eyes dart to him, then back again when Gwi-Ma starts speaking.

“What if I offered you a sweeter deal?” He says. “Break the Honmoon, and you can take your new pet demon and run. I won’t stop you.”

“But someone else will?” Rumi challenges. Gwi-Ma laughs, louder than he has been. The smell of smoke fills the air— Rumi can taste it on her tongue.

“You’re smarter than most. So many take my deals without looking any closer at the way I word them. Ask Jinu, he can tell you that much. But sure, little demon. None of my demons will come after you too. You can be,” his smirk widens, “Free.”

The intentional and mocking use of the word is not lost on her.

Free. Doom the world, and they can be free.

Rumi stays silent. Jinu is pulled out of the water, coughing and gasping, then plunged right back in.

Gwi-Ma is a horrible and patient demon. It goes on for what feels like an hour before they’re finally released to their cell.

Jinu is shuddering, still breathing unevenly, but huddles close to her. Whether he’s seeking warmth or comfort, or both, Rumi doesn’t know. She just wraps an arm around him, keeping him close.

They’re both quiet for a long time.

—

“Is it selfish,” Jinu slurs slightly, head lying on her shoulder and barely awake, “That I’m kinda glad you’re here?”

“No.” Rumi replies immediately. “No, I know what you mean.”

“Usually… Usually, if I wanted anyone around afterwards, I had to go home.” He continues, unprompted but also uncontested. Maybe he wants to get it off his chest, so Rumi doesn’t stop him. Maybe she’s the selfish one, wanting to know what's going on in his head, and that’s why she doesn’t. “But if he ever made me stay here, I would be alone. Gwi-Ma wouldn’t allow anyone to come for me. Derpy and Sussie don’t like to get too close to him, so they wouldn’t come either. So I’d just be here. On my own.” He lets out a long breath. “Sorry. I’m acting kind of pathetic, aren’t I?”

“You’ve been tortured, Jinu. Multiple times, in front of an audience.” Rumi pulls him a little closer but is careful about it. He opened up some of his previous wounds with his thrashing earlier. “Nothing about this is pathetic. You’re actually being pretty strong.”

Jinu chuckles. “I think I’m just a cockroach. Good at staying alive, even from things that should kill me.”

“There’s strength in that.” Her head lays on top of his, staring straight ahead at the cell door in front of them. “I’m glad I’m here too. If I wasn’t, you’d either be dead or going through this alone. I don’t like the sound of either.”

Jinu hums, agreeing with her assumption. Neither say anything for a long moment. As terrifying as imprisonment is, it’s monotonous too. When Jinu is asleep, Rumi doesn’t have a whole lot to do. Just waiting. And the waiting has her on pins and needles, but it also makes things… Dull. Even if she’d rather things stay dull. The lesser of two evils is still evil, after all.

“I heard you talking.” Jinu says at last. “But not any specifics. What did he say?”

“The usual.” Not a lie. “Nothing you have to worry about.” But that, on the other hand, is.

If Jinu notices, he doesn’t comment. They just sit, huddled together, and wait for activity. Food, she hopes, but just water would be okay too, even if thinking about it makes her a bit queasy.

If Jinu isn’t thirsty later, she won’t blame him.

—

The past few times after Jinu was tortured and Rumi was made to watch, Gwi-Ma seemed to always give them three days of reprieve. Rumi used those days to their fullest, fueling them up and mentally preparing for the next onslaught of pain and pressure. Jinu spends a lot of the time sleeping, but when he’s not, he eats, drinks, and talks to her. Quietly, softly, but talks nonetheless.

Rumi doesn’t know how he does it, after what he endures, but maybe it’s the only way he’s staying sane. The only way he can feel like a person, and not like a doll ripped apart for someone else’s entertainment.

There’s a rhythm to it all. Until a fourth day passes, and Gwi-Ma doesn’t come at all.

Then a fifth.

Jinu really starts getting antsy on the sixth. He looks much better than he did before, enough that his hair has started growing back and his body isn’t just scar tissue, but if anything, he just looks uneasy by it.

“Something’s up.” Jinu taps his leg, mouth twisted unhappily. His eyebrows, thin but now present, are furrowed together. “He should’ve summoned us again by now.”

Rumi wants to take this as a good thing so badly, but she’s smart enough to know it’s not. “You know how he works.” Half statement, half question. Jinu confirms her suspicions with a nod. “If he was torturing someone else but abruptly gave them more time to heal in the past, why would he do it?”

“To… Make them fear what’s coming. Or…” Jinu’s eyes dart to her. “Or because he gave them something to think about and thinks he can sway them to do it if they sit with it long enough.”

It’s almost accusatory. When Rumi fails to answer one way or another, Jinu’s eyes narrow. “Rumi… What did Gwi-Ma say to you when you last saw him?”

“I’m not going to take the deal, Jinu.” Her voice wavers were it shouldn’t. Jinu’s breath hitches.

“Rumi.”

“I’m not…” Rumi trails off, eyes squeezing shut. “I’m trying to be strong, Jinu. I really am. If the roles were reversed, you’d struggle too.”

“If the roles were reversed, I would’ve given in.” Jinu says so matter-of-factly that it actually throws her off. He shifts, grabbing either side of her shoulders. “They were reversed, Rumi. I did give in. And the world almost ended because of me.”

“Because of Gwi-Ma.” Rumi argues back.

“Because of me.” Jinu insists. “My plan, Rumi. I came to him with it. Said a rival idol group could tear the Honmoon apart. And when he put pressure on me to betray you, I folded. I did it. If I could break the Honmoon and he used you as leverage, I would’ve done it by now. Just because I know how to survive the torture doesn’t mean I don’t fold every single time.”

Her mouth feels dry. “You’re say that like it’s your fault that you don’t fight back harder against torture.”

“I’m just saying—”

“That’s not a good argument, Jinu.” Rumi glares at him. “If this is what I had to endure, I would do terrible things to survive it too.”

“It doesn’t make it any less terrible, Rumi!” His voice raises. “It doesn’t take back any of the things that I’ve done!”

“No, but it sure as hell doesn’t make you like him.” Rumi shoots back. “You really want to know what he offered me? An escape. For both of us, if I did break it. And I’m not saying I’ll take it, or that I believe him, or that we would even have much of an escape to anywhere if I traded your safety for the world, but you’ll have to fucking forgive me if I’m tired of seeing you hurt!”

“I know you are! And I’m sorry, Rumi, but I can’t let you make the mistakes that I have. That shame will never leave you, and you can never take back what you did. So I don’t care if I get hurt because I would slit my own throat if it meant that you wouldn’t have to live with the same shame that I do!”

Nothing but their own heavy breathing fills the air, until the cell door rattles. Both jump but an extremely awkward and scrawny looking demon just dumps a tray of rice and a filled water skin before scurrying off, not taking their old one in the process.

Rumi swallows thickly, frustration boiling under her skin, but she grabs it anyways. “Hold out your hands.”

“Rumi…”

“Hands, Jinu.” He complies. She scoops up his portion of the rice and gives it to him with a glare. “I don’t care what you think needs to happen.” She tells him seriously. “Because I’m not going to stop trying to take care of you. Got it?”

Neither waver, but eventually, Jinu folds, exhaling like he’s deflating. “Got it.” He echoes back. “Just… Don’t take the deal, Rumi. Gwi-Ma is true to his word but he’ll always find an angle to twist against you.”

‘Ask Jinu, he can tell you that much.’

“Okay.” Rumi says. It’s not as convincing as a promise, but Jinu seems relieved by it nonetheless. Trusting that Rumi can hold strong— stronger than he considers himself.

“I’m sorry that I’m asking this of you,” he says, “But trust me: the alternative is so much worse.”

—

Multiple demons come the next day. The pair face Gwi-Ma in silence. Once again, Rumi has her wrists chained down but Jinu is left standing. He’s even more surprised when someone takes his bound wrists and unlocks them, leaving just the shackles as they back off.

Judging from the look Jinu gives her, this is something new.

A singular, shorter demon approaches, an unsheathed eunjangdo in hand. Both of them tense but the demon in question puts the handle of the small blade in Jinu’s palm before hastily dashing off. Jinu’s hand curls around it but his eyebrows furrow, glancing around and trying to put the pieces together.

“I received the most interesting piece of news yesterday.” Gwi-Ma begins, as if sharing a piece of gossip. “A demon who overheard something. And I have to admit, it intrigues me. Did you mean it, Jinu?”

Jinu blinks, slowly turning Gwi-Ma’s way. He hesitates but doesn’t risk staying silent. “Did I mean what?”

“When you said you’d slit your own throat to protect her."

Jinu goes still. Abruptly, both of them understand the game he’s playing.

Rumi wishes she could wipe that smile off of Gwi-Ma’s face.

Jinu’s fist tightens around the handle. He glares up at Gwi-Ma, no longer caring if it gets him in trouble.

“Well, Jinu? Were you all talk after all?” This time, it’s Jinu who gives him the silent treatment. “Do you need motivation? Would you prefer it if we slit the Hunter’s throat instead?”

It happens so fast that Rumi can barely react. In one swift motion, Jinu cuts his own throat open, then falls to his knees as he gags on his own blood. The eunjangdo clatters to the ground with him, abandoned. Blood pours onto the ground like a waterfall as he hunches over, Rumi left gaping in horror. His body spasms, one shaking hand futility trying to cover the wound, to little avail.

“Mmmm.” Gwi-Ma is nothing short of pleased. “A little pressure and he bends. Don’t you see, Hunter? I know hundreds of different ways to break him, and I could spend eternity showing them to you. Or,”

His flames reach out. Rumi’s shoulders hike up as they go right for Jinu, searing into his throat and making him scream in a way that’s a little too genuine. It feels like a reprise of that first night, up until the flames retreat again, leaving Jinu to shakily hover a hand over his throat.

When his head whips around to look at her, fresh tears in his eyes, she sees it. His wound has been cauterized; it’s not bleeding anymore.

“You could do something for me, and I could give you what you want. You could be safe. Together. Despite what you might think of me, I am honest about my deals. I always give exactly what I promise.”

Rumi doesn’t think she could speak even if she wanted to. Jinu seems to be in the exact same position.

“Think about it. Take all the time you need. After all,” his flames grow taller, casting long shadows in the pillars surrounding him, caging them in, “I am eternal. You will all perish long before I do.”

—

He can’t talk. Try as he might, the blade cut deep and cauterizing it only stopped the bleeding, not actually fixing any of the damage. Jinu is left speechless in a very literal sense of the word, no matter how much he tries to do otherwise.

“Stop.” Telegraphing her movements, Rumi cups the underside of his chin and presses up, closing his mouth a click. “You need to heal first, Jinu. Whatever you want to say can wait.”

Jinu makes a frustrated, wordless noise, fists clenching and looking away. When Rumi presses close to him however, he leans into her too.

“I know.” She drops her volume, just in case they ‘Happen’ to have any other demons overhearing them. “I know, okay? The deal is bad. You don’t have to tell me twice. There’s just no good options and… Gwi-Ma’s obvliously pretty good at getting into people’s heads. Kinda sucks that he’s figured me out a bit.”

Jinu pulls away to send her a look. Rumi raises her hand in surrender. “I’m not taking it. I just want to be honest with you about what I’m thinking.”

After a beat, Jinu nods briefly, understanding. Rumi drops her hands back into her lap. “I keep trying to think of a way out but… Neither of us can teleport and nobody here can help. No matter what I think of, it feels half baked at best. More likely to hurt us than help us. And you should know,” Rumi drops her voice, as if conspiring, “I’m terrible at sitting around and not doing anything.”

Jinu snorts, finally smiling. With how bad things have been, it unknots something deep in her chest.

“You heard him.” Rumi says. “We have all the time we need, not that he'll leave us alone for that long. We can figure out a solution, one way or another. I don’t know how but… I don’t want either of us to spend the rest of our lives down here, however long we have left. So we have to do this.”

He doesn’t do it right away but Jinu does nod in the end, so that’s good enough for Rumi.

—

In the end, there’s kinda only one opening they ever get. On the trip out of their cells, before Jinu has been tortured. Given, they’ll always be outnumbered and chained by the wrists, but their legs will be free. Rumi can still punch demons with chained wrists. Jinu is pretty mobile in a fight from what she’s seen.

It’s possible. Which makes it more likely than anything else. Jinu at least knows his way around, so he can lead the way. They’ll fight their way out and run.

From… An army of demons. Who actually can teleport.

Rumi drops her face into her hands to groan. Jinu bumps her shoulder. “It’s fine.” He mumbles. His voice is still recovering, even with the speed of demon healing.

“It’s not fine— nothing is fine.” Rumi snaps back, then immediately feels bad. “But you know that. You’re the one getting tortured.”

“Don’t think about it too much.” Jinu tells her. The more time they spend here, the more they press close together, seeking comfort from the one source of friendly touch that they have. Rumi would be able to enjoy it more if it were under better circumstances. “The more you focus on it, the worse you’ll feel.”

“I’m supposed to ignore you getting tortured?” For that, Rumi sends him an incredulous look. Jinu sighs in response.

“You’re not gonna feel any better if you obsess about it. Besides,” Jinu shrugs, “It’ll haunt you either way, so no, you’re not ignoring it. Just… Focusing on something else at the moment.”

“I’m trying.” Her eyes travel, looking for something to latch onto, and eventually lands on Jinu’s slow recovering hair. A bit longer than a buzz cut now— Rumi runs her hand over it, finding it’s currently spikier than she previously suspected.

“…I could fix your braid?” Jinu offers quietly. Rumi pulls away, turning her back to him for easier access.

“Okay.” She agrees. “That works.”

Jinu lets out a breathy laugh behind her. “Those flyaways were really bothering you, huh?”

“A little. But it wasn’t on my list of priorities.”

“But it can be fixed now, so let me.” His hands move, practiced, quickly undoing her braid without pulling too harshly. Little by little, her hair pools by their feet, long, dirty, and frazzled, but Jinu never stops treating it with care. He really should be resting his voice, but he starts humming and Rumi doesn’t want to stop him. She doesn’t want to take away any small source of joy he can find in a desolate place like this.

“I might struggle a bit with the top part of your braid.” Jinu warns her.

“That’s okay.” Rumi fiddles with the laces of her boots. “You told me you didn’t think you were strong, but you’re better at surviving this place than I am.”

“I don’t think strength and survival are the same thing.” Is his reply. “And after you’ve lived in a place like this for as long as I have, you just get used to some things.”

There’s no use saying Rumi wishes he didn’t have to. Instead, Rumi says, “I won’t let you die here.”

Jinu acknowledges that but doesn’t reply. His hands never pause, slowly going through the motions, and Rumi gets lost in the sensation of his hands in her hair and pleasant humming filling the air.

If she closes her eyes, she can almost pretend they’re anywhere else.

—

The chance of escape is unlikely, no matter how Rumi spins it. Even under the best circumstances, they’re at a heavy disadvantage. They have just enough strength to walk and talk but Rumi barely knows how to teleport in the first place and she highly doubts Jinu has any power left in him after continuously being chewed up and spat out, left to nurse his own wounds in the brief pockets of downtime they get. So even if they did manage to get the shackles off somehow, that's a bit of a bust too.

But despite the odds against them, Rumi is tired of watching Jinu get hurt. Gwi-Ma knows that enough that he thinks he can break her over it. However, he neglects the fact that Rumi is willing to try almost anything to get them both out of their current position, including stupid, daring escape attempts.

On their way down from the interior of the prison, one of the guards slips and tumbles down the stairs. Nearly all of the rest are distracted by it.

Her eyes dart to Jinu’s. She sees weariness there, but the willingness to try too. Rumi doesn’t have to say anything— he seems to know what she’s thinking wordlessly. So when Rumi wraps her hands around the leading chain connecting to her wrists, he does the same. Both of them yank suddenly at the same time, causing the demons holding onto them to fall back, grip loosened enough for them to take back control.

From there, all hell breaks loose.

Of all the weapons to fight with, Rumi has always preferred swords, but she still knows how to fight with a chain. She whips it in one demon’s face and uses it to strangle another. Out of the corner of her eye, she sees Jinu dance around the demon going for him, wincing slightly at being forced to move faster than his body wants to, but he takes satisfaction when a well timed duck has one guard punching another.

And when Rumi’s hands curl around one of the guard’s clubs— well. Weapon of choice or not, an armed Hunter is a dangerous Hunter.

The guards are wiped out— either knocked out cold or reduced to red dust. Jinu pants in the aftermath, a bit labored already. Rumi’s mouth twists unhappily— if his body is already experiencing strain from just that, then it’s going to be a lot harder from here on out. Dealing with their current captors was, unfortunately, the easy part of the plan.

“You…” Jinu manages to say between breaths, “You should run. I’ll only hold you back.”

“No.” Rumi doesn’t hesitate to loop his arm around her shoulder, shooting him a hard look. “Either we get out together or not at all. So if you want me to live, start moving.”

With a huff, Jinu does, seemingly knowing better than to try to convince her further. Down the stairs, ducking into empty cells when they hear guards, with Jinu quietly murmuring directions into Rumi’s ear.

“We won’t be able to leave without being detected.” He tells her. “And once he knows…”

“He was going to find out sooner or later, if he doesn't know already.” Rumi shakes her head firmly. All apprehension is swallowed down— she has no room left for doubt. She needs to commit, no matter what.

When they finally find the exit tunnel, there’s only two guards still posted there. Easily dispatched, but from there, they’re forced to run. Injuries and low energy be damned, it’s the only thing they can do.

Reaching the end of the tunnel and exiting the prison should be cause for celebration. Instead, they’re left surrounded on all sides by a crowd of demons who look more than eager at the prospect of tearing them apart.

If Rumi had her sword, this would be light work. If she had Mira or Zoey by her side, Rumi could still find the confidence to see a path where they would still win. If this wasn’t the demon realm, Rumi might still have hope for coming out on top.

But Jinu leans heavily into her side, all fight draining out of him on the spot, and Rumi can’t find the words to convince him he’s wrong for wanting to throw in the towel already. Rumi struggles with the idea of getting out of this any other way than surrender. And as much as she wants to fight, she’s running on half a bowl of rice. A pretty small bowl at that.

Hopeless, the very air seems to whisper, long before she hears the roar of fire and laughter.

Even with the distance between them, Gwi-Ma projects his voice to be loud enough for Rumi to hear him with perfect clarity.

“Did you get it all out of your system yet? Or should I let my army have their pound of flesh first?”

Rumi finds that her words fail her, voice strangled. When Gwi-Ma laughs again, the army of demons surrounding them laugh with him like a horrible, cacophonous echo.

“I knew this would come sooner or later. Did you not think I wouldn’t be prepared for this sort of stunt? That I would be so foolish as to not anticipate your childish rebellion? Because let me make one thing clear: there was not a world in which this worked. You are in my domain, and here, I am a god. You are only alive because I allow it. Don’t make me change my mind. Now,”

A few stronger looking demons part from the crowd, stalking forward with clear intent to restrain, and likely won’t be kind about it. Rumi’s itch to fight back meets a wall— if she does, what will happen? They can’t survive an attack like this. Trying to will only make him more angry, and god knows what he’ll do to Jinu for getting this far.

Hunters aren’t meant to surrender. But Rumi is alone, so far from home, and isn’t feeling like much of a Hunter at all.

She can’t protect Jinu. She can’t even protect herself.

The demons close in. Hands curl around her upper arm and her wrists. They tighten around her painfully but Rumi can’t do a damn thing about it because it’s all so—

She hears it before it happens. Shouts— angry, panicked, confused— snapping Rumi out of her thoughts but the fog in her mind is a little slower to clear. Her line of sight is blocked; the only thing she can make out is Jinu’s equal confusion, clearly also having no idea what’s going on. They lock eyes, Rumi’s mind whirling as she tries to determine if using this commotion to attempt another escape is worth it or not—

Then abruptly, one of the demons blocking her vision explodes into red dust as something whizzes past her ear. Her heart immediately starts pounding— even before she sees anything, some part of Rumi remembers the sensation too well for it to be anything else.

The fact that all of the demons crowding her and Jinu soon follow the same fate only further confirms what she's seeing. The light of the shin-kal is unmistakable, as is their deadly speed and accuracy.

The larger crowd that surrounded them is in an uproar, fighting or running from the sudden force that’s descended upon them. Rumi can’t see everything— though it’s obvious that the crowd has been split as if fighting multiple people at once— but she sees enough.

Zoey looks like a warrior angel descended from the heavens; glowing, fierce, and grinning like she’s already won. Familiar black leather and spikey accessories cover her person, and with a flick of the wrist, six more knives return to her hands, immediately thrown out in anticipation of incoming demons attempting to teleport into the sudden battle that’s broken out. None of them get more than a second of being physical before they’re dispatched.

She’s not alone either, though it’s not Mira by her side. Instead, as a bulky, red demon attempts to reel back their club to hit her while she’s reloading, they’re immediately struck and thrown off balance as a loud crack rings through the air. Abby might be a bit shorter than the demon he struck, but the force behind his blow is unmistakable. Before the demon can recover, Zoey sticks a shin-kal through their eye, and Abby finishes the job by sticking his hand through their chest.

Not far from her, Rumi hears Jinu make a breathless noise of disbelief, almost a laugh, and knows she’s not just seeing things.

“Rumi!” Zoey calls, sprinting over to her with a mix of pure relief and somewhat manic joy on her face. “You’re alive, thank god— if we went through all this trouble just to find out you were dead or— or worse— I swear to god, I was going to do something drastic and nobody wants to see that—”

Before Rumi knows what she’s doing, she’s engulfing Zoey in a bear hug, uncaring about anything else for a moment. Her outfit of leather and spikes might as well be made of silk and foam, because it’s the best hug she’s ever gotten, even if Zoey can only fully embrace her back for a few seconds before she has to one-arm it and throw more of her shin-kal with the other.

Zoey is solid and real, and that’s enough to make Rumi want to cry. She only sheds a few tears however, reminding herself that more than anything, they need to get out of here.

The idea of leaving is more appealing than anything else at the moment.

Rumi jerks away when she hears Jinu make a muffled cry, but her shoulders sag upon getting a better look. Abby is squeezing him tightly, though thankfully releases him quickly once he realizes he’s being a bit too rough on him. She doesn’t hear the quiet question he asks Jinu but she sees the result— Abby immediately picks Jinu up and positions him for a piggyback ride. In different circumstances, it might’ve been a sillier sight, but the exhaustion and relief that overtakes Jinu just before he buries his face into Abby’s shoulder is unmistakable.

“You’re with…” Rumi says, trailing off mid-sentence as she turns back to Zoey. Zoey smiles and shrugs, attention only diverting as more and more demons attempt to teleport in.

“Long story. Tell you later— let’s get you out of here first!”

Zoey makes quick work of the chains still around her wrists. The second they’re gone, Rumi feels a small rush of power returning to her, no longer blocked off. Though before she can think to do anything about it, Zoey is grabbing her wrist and pulling her along, and Rumi knows better than to hesitate so she follows her lead.

“We got them!” Abby calls into the crowd. When Rumi looks, she can make out the shine of Mira’s weapon, swinging and slashing into demons, as well as various other Saja Boys hacking away at those still oncoming. “Let’s go!”

At his signal, all of them begin to run.

Rumi doesn’t know where they’re going. She just trusts the steady grip on her wrist and the blazing determination in Zoey’s eyes, and finally believes that she can make it out of here alive, with Jinu still in one piece.

Their escape passes in a blur of fighting, yelling, and running. Rumi hears Gwi-Ma roar distantly but doesn’t dare look back. Her eyes are kept forward, only occasionally glancing to the others, and to Jinu. She doesn’t know Abby but it’s hard not to trust him a little when he’s the one ensuring Jinu is more than safe from the demons trying to take him back.

There’s a hole in the Honmoon, but none of them look alarmed to see it. In fact, they head right for it, ensuring Rumi and Jinu get through before Zoey and Mira begin to seal it themselves, harmonizing as they pour their energy back into it.

Rumi doesn’t have a lot of energy in her, but when she feels the energy of the Honmoon wash over her, she can’t help it. She joins them, throwing what she has left in her to aid them, and is rewarded by the Honmoon sealing up in no time.

All of them are panting in the aftermath, but as Rumi looks at all of them, at how Zoey and Mira came for her, at how Jinu is still alive and finally safe, she can’t help it.

A shaky breath leaves her. Tears begin to stream down her face as Rumi begins to shake, feeling something unravel within her.

Once they see her, Zoey and Mira don’t hesitate. The hug that follows makes Rumi sob into their shoulders, hoping she doesn’t wake up in a cell tomorrow, praying that she gets to have her cake and eat it too. No more watching torture happen to the one person she wanted to save the most, no more impossible choices and situational trolly problems, no more being powerless and feeling weak and slowly breaking down no matter how much she wanted to deny it.

The world is safe and so is Jinu. She didn't have to compromise either.

Rumi doesn’t stop shaking for a while.