Work Text:
“‘I wanted to set you free’?” Jinu reads the words out loud slowly, as if that will help him make sense of them. It doesn’t work— he still feels as confused and mildly concerned as he did before. “I know you said the words can have mysterious and unexpected meanings but this just sounds…” He grimaces. “Tragic.”
His mother laughs to herself, shaking her head. “You can be so pessimistic. It could mean anything.”
“They’re last words.” Jinu traces over the neat writing on his wrist. The color is vibrant, almost blue-ish, which only further makes it sound like his Soulmate is probably a yangban girl. And that makes Jinu think the context behind the words means it’s a relationship that won’t end well for him. “I’m not seeing any other explanation here.”
His mother sighs, then reluctantly motions for him to hold out his wrist, a piece of ripped fabric in hand. Jinu obediently shifts and outstretches his arm. She wraps it around his forearm, covering the words. There’s a slight sadness in her eyes but she understands why he has to cover it up.
Soulmates are gifts, and the royals and yangban— and sometimes even the chungin— like to pretend it’s exclusive to them. It’s not illegal for a cheonmin like him to have a Soulmate, but he doesn’t need the attention.
“Don’t throw away opportunities like this, Jinu.” His mother gives him a solemn look. “Whoever she is, she could make you happy. If you’re determined to see nothing but tragedy, it’s all you’ll find.”
He knows. He just wants to be realistic.
“I’ll try.” He compromises. It’s good enough for her.
“You’d better. Now, if you need any more time to process your words, do it now.” Her eyes glint with amusement. “Because I suspect your sister will awaken soon.”
Jinu closes his eyes and sighs through his nose. He can only imagine the amount of questions she’ll have.
—
His words feel useless in the demon realm, Jinu having never met his Soulmate before he was doomed to spend eternity here. Jinu still keeps them covered up— they’re personal. Nobody else needs to know about them if he doesn’t want them to. Gwi-Ma taunts him enough.
But it’s easy to get lonely keeping a secret. So eventually, Jinu cracks and shows Baby.
“Oh.” For the first time since he met him, Baby looks genuinely at a loss for what to say. “You never met them?”
“No.” His throat is thick and choking. You didn’t deserve them anyways. “And I never will, will I?”
“Unless they also take a deal with Gwi-Ma.” Baby pauses, then squints to himself. “…That’s probably worse.”
Jinu laughs, croaked and somewhat broken. He was right after all— his words have brought him nothing but a tragedy.
—
“‘And now, I give it to you.’” Zoey reads in a hushed, dramatic voice. She nudges Rumi with a grin, bright eyed and eager. “Sounds like your Soulmate is leaving you something in their will! That’s so sweet!”
“Not bad for last words.” Mira nods in agreement, pulling back. “It’s probably gonna be hard to hear either way but maybe whatever they give you will give you closure.”
Rumi brushes over the words on her wrist, written in dark blue ink and in a manner that suggests her Soulmate knows calligraphy. With how rare Soulmates are, she’s shocked she has one at all.
She should be happy. And she is— Rumi knows she’s basically won the lottery in its own right— but Rumi was hoping she could just be happy. Nothing else.
But nothing in her life can just be simple, can it? Because now Rumi is worried about the patterns slowly inching down her arms. About them eventually reaching her wrist, tainting the words, and if they could interfere with her Soul Bond. At least Rumi knows definitively that she has a soul but there’s pressure that comes with this. She can’t meet her Soulmate now; Rumi has to wait until after the Golden Honmoon. When she’s free of her patterns and able to be as honest and open with whoever she’s destined to meet as she wants.
A younger Rumi would’ve been overjoyed to know she has a Soulmate. Not for the first time, Rumi wishes she could be her again. Before her patterns started to grow, before she realized the clock started ticking, before, before, before.
It’s another thing to look forward to, but not until her patterns are gone. Rumi can wait— she’s used to waiting. This isn’t any different.
So why does it feel like it is..?
“Rumi?” Zoey’s voice brings her back to the present. There’s a brief look of concern on her face before she masks it with a smile. “Daydreaming about them already?”
“Yeah.” Rumi forces a smile back. “I can’t wait to meet them.”
Except she can wait, and she has to.
—
It feels wrong to cover up her words with concealer but idols can’t have their words out in the open like that for several reasons, and if Rumi wants any semblance of privacy, she has to.
If anything, it just gives her more of an excuse to wear long sleeves without Mira and Zoey asking too many questions. It feels manipulative to use something like her words like that but Rumi is used to lying, even if she wishes she weren’t.
—
It takes six letters, all with cute ducks and little catchphrases, and all very obviously written in ink because Jinu is literally four hundred years old, for Rumi to really look at what he’s written. Or to be more specific, his handwriting.
Because she’s seen that handwriting before. More specifically, Jinu seems to know calligraphy. Hangul calligraphy. Same as her Soulmate.
Soulmates, as in someone you’re meant to meet. Someone who is meant to change your life in some way, no matter how briefly your paths cross. There’s no one type of Soulmate, but some say they make you feel understood. Like two sides of the same coin.
Rumi shoves the thought as far out of her mind as possible. She’s not doing this. Can’t do this. Not now. Not with him.
Jinu isn’t the only person in the world who knows Hangul Calligraphy. That doesn’t mean anything.
Rumi’s not even sure if demons can have Soulmates.
(“Is that what you think? That’s all demons do: feel.”)
…She’s not as sure as she once was about that, though.
—
Rumi sings. Jinu joins her. The Honmoon lights up, almost approvingly.
Afterwards, as Derpy races across the skyline with practiced ease, Rumi decides she wouldn’t mind if Jinu was actually her Soulmate. She might even want that, if she were being honest with herself.
After the Honmoon goes golden tomorrow, maybe she can ask if he has any words too.
—
The world lights up with fire and Jinu knows if he doesn’t act now, he’ll never forgive himself. So he moves.
His body takes the hit, slowly burning up under Gwi-Ma’s flames, but Rumi is safe from his wrath. Jinu knows this will kill him but the weight of it doesn’t hit until he hears it.
“I wanted to set you free!”
Oh, Jinu thinks. Oh.
I guess I did meet them after all.
He wasn’t wrong, then. His words did warn him of tragedy. Strangely, it’s not as bad as he thought it would be. Jinu doesn’t want to die, but at least his death means something, right?
There are worse ways, he decides. Even if it's agony to burn.
“You did.” He tells her, one last reassurance. “You gave me my soul back. And now,” His soul glows, brighter and brighter, his for the first time in four-hundred years. But not for long. It’s not as if it’ll be much use to him if it burns with the rest of him. “I give it to you.”
Rumi’s breath catches in her throat. Did he say her words too? Guess they really are Soulmates.
Some Soulmate he is. Betrayed her, almost ended the world, and now he’s dead.
Maybe his soul can do something for her that he can’t…
—
Jinu opens his eyes.
…
Jinu… Opens his eyes. And immediately hits a snag in his head, unable to move past the thought because he knows— he knows he died. Was dead. Is supposed to still be dead.
Nobody survives Gwi-Ma like that. Somehow, he’s managed to break one of the few constants he’s known these past four-hundred years.
He lives, and breathes, and before him stands not an afterlife, but the city of Seoul. It’s neither day nor night, settled in a strange in between where the sky is darkening but the sun still shines low in the sky, not quite done. Its rays warm his face, further evidence of his return to life, and Jinu stands on an empty rooftop for what could be hours, but is more likely just a few minutes.
Jinu only moves when he has a reason to. And the second he does, he’s racing across the skyline, knowing he only has one teleport in him if that, and with only one destination in mind.
Any other time, teleporting into the middle of Huntrix Tower would be unthinkable. But Jinu has thought about it now and he doesn’t want to delay it. His greatest sin came from wanting but Jinu can’t seem to stop. He wants and wants and wants.
And there is nothing more he wants more than to see Rumi right now.
Appearing in the middle of Huntrix’s living room leaves him a bit unsteady on his feet and dizzy when he’s so low on power, but Jinu is lucky enough to find her immediately. She’s not alone but she’s the only one who doesn’t instinctually draw their weapon.
Jinu is all but stripped bare like this, hardly any power left in him and against three Hunters who could easily send him right back into regenerating, but he doesn’t feel afraid. Breathless, sure. A little off his game, definitely. But not afraid.
Rumi is on her feet, looking at him warily, and Jinu remembers he’s supposed to be dead. “Ah, wait.” He hastily moves to correct his mistake, pulling up the sleeve of his durumagi and revealing the words underneath.
Still as purple as Rumi’s hair. Still the same as they were before.
When he looks up, Rumi is speechless, her fellow Hunters watching her reaction. Their weapons dissolve back into the Honmoon as Rumi steps forward, moving to see the words for herself. It’s taboo for anyone else to touch them directly, aside from Soulmates, so Jinu doesn’t shy away as her touch ghosts over his skin and makes him feel electrified in all the best ways.
Nobody breathes a word for several long moments. Jinu breaks the silence in the end. “So much for ‘Last words’, huh?”
Rumi replies by pulling him in for a hug tight enough to bruise his ribs, and Jinu wheezes but smiles all the same. She only pulls away to show him hers— ‘And now, I give it to you.’ clear as day.
“I guess it doesn’t account for demons coming back after death.” Jinu is careful when brushing against her words, as if interacting with something priceless he hopes he won’t ruin.
“Guess not.” Rumi sounds choked up. Her eyes are teary when he looks up. “I thought that was it.”
“Me too, until about ten minutes ago.”
“But you’re going to stay this time.”
“You’re saying that like it’s a statement, not a question.”
“That’s because it’s not.” Rumi tells him firmly, still teary-eyed but almost furious about it. “You’re never dying on me again.”
“I’ll try my best not to.” Jinu smiles, then once again gets the air crushed out of his lungs as Rumi surges forward, arms wrapped around him.
“Never.” She repeats. And, well, Jinu is trying to be a decent Soulmate here. He can give in to her demands this one time.
“Okay.” He promises. “Never again.”