Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

It was a warm night in a tiny dance studio in Hongdae, Seoul. The mirrors were cracked, the AC barely worked, and there was sweat-streaked masking tape on the floor marking formations that had long since changed. It was past midnight. The trains had stopped. But the beat still thumped from the old speakers.

The bassline ended in a glitchy fizzle, and Romance dropped to his knees with a huff. Sweat clung to his jawline like glitter, and his then-red-brown hair was damp under the flickering light.

“Again?” he asked, glancing up. “Or are we actually letting ourselves eat tonight?”

“Bro, my soul left my body two songs ago,” Baby groaned, flopping onto the floor. His snapback fell off, revealing his fluffy still-black hair. “Let’s feed it.”

Mystery didn’t answer. He was too busy tweaking settings on the battered tablet that doubled as their mixer. The looping track still stuttered, he frowned at it like it personally offended him. On the far end of the studio, Abby peeled off his sleeveless hoodie, revealing the sweaty gleam of his abs beneath. His hair was black back then too, though his bangs fell across his forehead.

“If we ever debut,” Abby muttered, voice low and gravelly, “I want a shower budget. And a real gym. Not just Romance’s body weight routines.”

Romance smirked. “You’re welcome, by the way. You’re ripped because of me.”

“No,” Abby grunted. “I’m ripped because I carry this group.”

Baby threw a water bottle at him. “Lies! I'm the whole brand, bro. Sex appeal and bars. What more do you need?”

They bickered, lightly, like brothers, but the fatigue was real. The rejection email they got earlier still lingered in the air like smoke. Another agency passed. “Not marketable.” “Too niche.” “No visual anchor.”

They were Eclipse88- the underdogs, the orphans of the idol world. They'd made their own logo. Paid a cousin to shoot their promo photos. Slept in shifts in a one-room studio when they could afford it.

Romance glanced down at his phone. A message from Eli, unopened:
“Still at practice? Eat something, okay? I love you.”

He didn’t open it yet. Just stared at it. Guilt stabbing at his ribs.

“Let’s record that second chorus again,” he said suddenly, standing. “I want it cleaner this time.”

Abby groaned. “Bro.”

“Just one more take,” Romance lied. “Then food. I swear.”

Mystery sighed, but queued up the beat again.

As the loop began, the studio door creaked. A cold gust blew in from nowhere. The lights flickered. A voice, smooth, velvet, dangerous, drifted into the room:

“Hard work is admirable... but don’t you boys ever get tired of being invisible?”

They turned.

A mysterious man who could have been an idol himself stood in the doorway, dressed in all black, beads from his tall hat catching the light. His smile was bright. Too bright.

“I’ve been watching you,” he said. “You’re special. All of you. But this world isn’t kind to talent without power.” He took a step forward. Something in his shadow moved wrong. “What if I told you... I could change everything?”

Change everything? Romance’s mind went back, back to her. Just the other night…

***

In a cramped rooftop apartment just outside Hongdae. The city buzzed far below, but up there it was just two shadows curled into a secondhand couch. A desk lamp glowed golden. Music Played softly, one of Mystery’s demo beats, unfinished, unpolished, but warm. A single orchid leaned out of an old ramen cup on the windowsill.

Romance’s zipper hoodie hung off one shoulder, his collarbone glinting with sweat and moonlight. His legs were stretched out across the couch, and Eli was nestled beside him, her head on his chest, her fingers tracing invisible circles on his stomach. The girlfriend he wasn’t supposed to have. A forbidden taboo of the Kpop Idol world.

He breathed out a laugh when she grazed a ticklish spot.

“Careful,” he murmued. “You’re gonna make me break my vow of silence.”

She tilted her head. “You’ve been quiet all night.”

“I’m tired.”

“Liar.”

She shifted to sit up a little, straddling one of his legs, her knees bracketing him. She wasn’t mad, just watchful, gently pulling truth from him like thread.

“We didn’t pass the last audition,” he said finally. “The producer said I didn’t have a strong enough ‘visual identity.’ Whatever that means.”

Eli frowned. “You’re the most beautiful person I’ve ever seen.”

Romance chuckled, a low sound in his throat. “You’re biased.”

“I’m correct.”

She reached up and brushed the damp strands of red-brown hair from his forehead. He closed his eyes under her touch. It was the only time he let himself be soft, here, in her hands, when no one was watching.

“Sometimes I think about quitting,” he confessed.

“Liar,” she said again, smiling faintly.

“Okay,” he admitted. “Sometimes I think about what it would take to finally win. Really win. Not just clout. Not just a flash of virality. I mean real power. The kind that makes people listen.”

“You already make people listen.”

“Not the right people.”

She leaned forward and kissed his temple. “You’re too good to sell yourself to this industry.”

He opened his eyes and looked at her. There was something heavy there, like he already knew something was coming. Like fate was standing at the door.

“I just want to give you more than this,” he whispered.

She kissed him. Gentle. Slow. Anchoring.

“I don’t want more. I want you.” Her hands rested at his cheeks. “And I want you to want you, too.”

He let her kiss him again, deeper this time. A warmth bloomed behind his ribs. Something protective. Something scared. He didn’t say it, but the thought flickered-If someone came to me right now and offered it all... would I say no?

She curled into his chest again. He wrapped his arms around her and whispered against her hair:

“Stay with me a little longer. Just like this.”

And for one more hour, they pretended the world wasn't trying to take him away.

***

Romance’s awareness suddenly came rushing back. He was in the dance studio still. The mirrors caught warped reflections of the four boys, sweaty, tired, but burning with defiance. And this man, Jinu, in the doorway, poised like a predator with perfect posture.

What if I told you I could change everything?

Jinu’s voice lingered in the air like incense, sweet, thick, disarming. The boys looked at each other.

Baby was the first to scoff. “Are you with a label or just tryna sell us skincare?”

Abby didn’t speak. His eyes narrowed, jaw flexing. Instinct didn’t like this man.

Mystery clicked the volume off on the tablet, and the beat died.

Romance stepped forward, towel slung around his neck. “Who are you?”

Jinu smiled. It was a small thing. Not smug, knowing.

“Think of me as… an agent. Not for an agency, but for something bigger. An entity that rewards hunger. Ambition. Loyalty.” He walked into the room, looking at the shabby studio. “You’ve been scraping by for years, yes? Practicing in rooms no one sees, making music no one hears, dancing until your knees ache for fans who don’t even know your names?” He stopped moving and the air grew heavier. “I’ve watched you. The four of you have something rare. Fire. Devotion. Potential. But no matter how good you are, this world won’t let you win. Not unless you play by its rules. Or rewrite them.”

Mystery frowned. “Rewrite them how?”

Jinu tilted his head, as if amused they hadn't figured it out yet. “With power. With a contract.” He reached into his jacket and pulled out a sleek black folder, thin and slick like oil. He dropped it on the floor between them with a soft smack. “Four signatures. Four names. I give you everything: fame, money, immortality, artistry without limitation. You’ll become legends.”

Abby spoke next, voice like a growl. “What’s the cost?”

Jinu met his gaze, calm and unapologetic.

“Your souls, of course. But don’t worry, it’s a fair trade. You’ll still be you. Just… elevated. Transformed.”

Baby paced in a slow circle around the folder, like a lion around a trap. “What kind of ‘transformed’ are we talking? Like ‘hotter’ or ‘hellish’?”

“Both,” Jinu said, smiling.

Romance hadn’t moved. He just stared at the folder. In his mind’s eye, he saw Eli, her bare shoulder as she turned to look at him that morning, sleepy and glowing in the sunlight. Her I love you still unread.

“What if we say no?” he asked quietly.

Jinu didn’t look away from him.

“Then you’ll keep dancing in empty rooms until your bodies give out. You’ll watch lesser groups pass you. Watch your dreams rot under student debt and second jobs. And no one will ever know how bright you could’ve burned.” There was a long silence. Then Jinu added, almost gently: “But say yes… and the whole world will chant your names.”

He didn’t need to say more.

Because the room ached with want. It was in the bruises on their knees, the calluses on their fingers, the hunger in their bones.

Romance looked at his friends. Baby’s gaze flickered between them, but he wouldn’t be the first to fold. Mystery stared at the folder like it was math he was trying not to solve. Abby didn’t blink. It was Romance who walked forward first.

He knelt.

Jinu grinned, slow and sly, a pen forming out of a demonic glow in his hand. Romance took it.

“Eclipse88 ends here.”

He signed:

Romance

Baby took the pen next, then Mystery, and Abby took it last, almost reluctant, but signed as well.

The moment they signed. The dance studio began to fracture, unreality seeping in. The floor cracked. The lights overhead flickered, then burst like glass fireworks, shards falling in slow motion, suspended as if underwater.

“Good,” Jinu whispered. “Now… burn.”

The floor beneath their feet melted into shadows. Heat rose, no, it was power, raw and ancient, licking at their skin, seeping into their lungs like smoke and flame.

Abby cried out first, gripping his stomach, his muscles rippling as something clawed its way up from beneath his skin. His arms twisted, glowing, hardening into something monstrous and divine. His hair turned red, styling itself fashionably, purple lines etching across his skin.

Baby’s scream turned into a laugh, his voice pitching, distorting, splitting into twin echoes as horns sprouted from his temples and the same purple tattoo unfurled down his neck like a curse blooming.

Mystery stumbled back, hands to his head. “It’s in the beat,” he gasped, “I can hear it-” and then his eyes lit up from within, an orange red glow like the others, his blood moving to a rhythm the human world never taught him.

And Romance-

Romance saw her.

Not the studio. Not his friends.

He saw Eli.

Standing in the doorway of their apartment, holding a grocery bag. Her lips moving, smiling, but he couldn’t hear her anymore. The sound was gone, sucked into the void. Her form began to dissolve.

“Wait-” he reached out, but his arm was smoke.“I didn’t say goodbye-"

He screamed, but it was soundless.

And then he burned.

Red heat exploded from within him, his spine arching, every memory searing, every heartbeat becoming something alien. His hair becoming a deep red, brighter than before. His pupils narrowed into slits, fangs forming in his mouth.

I didn’t say goodbye. I didn’t say goodbye-

The thought pounded in his head as the transformation completed.

They fell, one by one, onto obsidian ground that wasn’t there before. The studio was gone. They knelt in a vast, burning hall, mirrors turned to glass coffins, smoke curling in the air like applause. Jinu clapped slowly.

“Welcome, boys… to eternity.”

***

Romance bolted upright in bed. Sweat slicked his skin, even though the demon realm was always cold. His breath came fast, chest heaving, eyes wide. His body was still a demon’s, claws, power, horns half-formed in the darkness. But his mind was full of her.

Eli.

Her scent. Her hands. Her voice saying I love you. He never said it back. He turned to the stone wall beside his bed. Etched into it with claws, over and over, were the same three words:

Did she wait?

Minutes later, in the room that was a low-lit stone chamber deep in the demon realm. Black silk sheets were tangled on Romance’s bed. Faint emberlight flickered from the brazier in the corner, casting long shadows. The room smelled faintly of ash, musk, and something like old incense.

Romance sat at the edge of the bed, elbows on his knees, still catching his breath. His red hair hung loose around his face, damp with sweat. The claw marks on the wall beside him glowed faintly. He ran a hand through his hair. Trying to shake the memory. But Eli’s face lingered.

“Bad dream?” came a voice from the doorway.

Abby leaned against the stone frame, shirtless, broad-shouldered, and still half-asleep. His red hair was tousled, curling around his horns. There was a faint sheen of sweat on his chest, like he just came from a fight, or a workout, or something he wouldn't talk about.

Romance didn’t look up. “Something like that.”

Abby walked in, slow and casual, but his red-orange eyes were sharp and glowing softly. He crouched in front of Romance, placing one big hand on his knee.

“You were talking in your sleep.”

Romance closed his eyes. “What did I say?”

Abby shrugged. “Nothing I understood. But you said it like it was the last time.”

A beat.

“Was it about Mira?” Abby asked, half-serious. Then smirked. “You dreaming about the way she 'killed' us again? Because honestly, I think she meant it as flirting.”

Romance huffed a quiet laugh, small, but real.

“No. Not Mira,” he murmured.

Abby tilted his head. “Someone else?”

Romance hesitated.

“Her name was Eli. Before all this. Before Jinu. Before... me.”

Abby’s smirk faded. He nodded once, slow and thoughtful. Then shifted to sit beside him on the bed, their shoulders touching.

"She was important."

Romance nodded. “I never got to say goodbye.”

The room quieted again. Just the sound of emberlight crackling. After a while, Abby said, softer:

“You know… you’re still here.”

Romance turned to look at him.

“You think that matters?”

Abby shrugged, then leaned back on his elbows, abs flexing under the shifting firelight. “Matters to me.”

Romance looked away, the corners of his lips twitching. “You’re such a dumbass.”

“A dumbass with incredible pecs,” Abby said proudly.

“Mira would’ve decked you for that.”

"Mira has decked me for that.”

They laughed, just a little. And in the space that opened, Romance exhaled. Not the weight of grief, but something softer. Like memory loosening its grip, if only for a moment. He leaned against Abby’s shoulder.

“Thanks.”

Abby bumped his head gently against Romance’s. “Don’t mention it. Ever. I’ve got a reputation.”

Still in Romance’s chamber. Abby and Romance sat side by side on the bed, the emberlight now burning lower. Outside, the demon realm was unnaturally still, no wind, no wails, no Gwi-Ma whispering commands from the black throne.

A sharp knock split the silence.

Then the door creaked open, and Mystery stepped in, eyes hidden behind silver hair, sweat at his neck. His usual calm, cool, collected, untouchable demeanor had cracked. Baby trailed in behind him, hoodie half-zipped, chain hanging loose. His usual cocky energy was missing. He looked… spooked.

“Something’s wrong,” Mystery said, voice tight.

Abby stood immediately. “What kind of wrong?”

Mystery didn’t answer right away. He pulled at the collar of his jacket, revealing demon markings etched into the skin over his heart. They were cracked now, glowing faintly, but not with demonic power. Something more like dying starlight.

“Ever since we got back… I can’t hear him.”

Romance stiffened. “Gwi-Ma?”

Mystery nodded. “The bond. The command channel. The… presence. It’s gone. Or fading.”

“It’s not just him,” Baby added, lifting his sleeve. His marks were flickering, glitching like static on an old screen. “I tried tapping in for power earlier. Nothing. Like the line’s dead.” A heavy silence fell over the room.

Abby crossed his arms. “Jinu.”

Mystery nodded slowly. “His sacrifice… changed something. Maybe the deal’s unraveling.”

Romance breathed out, eyes distant. “Because he broke it. He gave up his soul. Willingly.”

Baby sat on the edge of a cracked chair. “So what does that mean for us?”

Do you think we can get out of here?” Mystery asked. He didn’t mean the room. He meant this place, this cursed realm of obsidian halls and eternal night. “Can we leave?”

The question sat in the air like smoke.

Romance looked down at his hand, still clawed, still shadowed. He flexed his fingers.

“How?” The word cut through everything. It wasn’t disbelief, it was need. Desperation, even. They all fell quiet. The emberlight fluttered. And then Romance said, almost to himself:

“If we can leave… then maybe she’s still out there.”

Mystery looked at him. “Mira?”

But Romance’s eyes were somewhere else. Not Mira.

“Eli.”

And the room ached with everything unsaid.

Chapter Text

It had been three hundred and seventeen days since he disappeared. Not that she was counting. Except she was. Because she still had the last message open on her phone.

“Eat something, okay? I love you.”

Sent.
Delivered.
Never read.

The bubble sat there, frozen in time, like the part of her heart she never got back. She told herself he got busy. That the trainee life had swallowed him whole. That one day, she’d look up and he’d be back at her door, hoodie slouched off one shoulder, with that tired grin and those eyes that looked at her like she was the only real thing in the world. But he never came.

And all the while, her texts went unanswered. Her calls rang once, then nothing. His socials stopped posting. The boys' group account, Eclipse88Offical, went dead. She’d been scared. Worried. Even called hospitals once or twice.

But then came Soda Pop.

The first time she saw him again, she was standing in line at a 7-Eleven, buying canned coffee and thinking about nothing. The TV behind the cashier was playing a music show rerun, bright lights, flashing edits, crowd screams. And then, there he was.

Romance.

Hair dyed a bright pink. Eyes shadowed and lined, his piercings shining. Shirt open just enough to show his collarbone. He danced like smoke and fire, the camera catching him in a way it never had before. He looked older. Sharper. Untouchable. The caption said:

Saja Boys – “Soda Pop” | Music Show Comeback Stage

She’d dropped the coffee.

***

Eli went to the concerts.

Of course she did. When the tour was announced, she bought a ticket before she could think twice. It was like touching a bruise just to prove it still hurt. She wore one of his old hoodies, oversized and fraying at the cuffs. Her seat was far from the stage, but her eyes never left him. And he didn’t see her. Not once.

He was brilliant. Gorgeous. A god, first in color, pink and pastels, then in red with leather and silk. But he didn’t wave. Didn’t scan the crowd like he used to. Didn’t even flinch when they played the song he’d written for her, the one with her middle name in the lyrics. (We are going off of the idea that the Saja Boys have more than just two songs in this universe.)

And then... he died.

Or something like it.

The lights burst. The stage cracked. Fans screamed as shadows tore through the air, swallowing the sound. She saw fangs, flames, the Saja Boys, bodies arcing into the air like they were being ripped from the world. And Romance, his eyes met hers, just once, wide with something almost human,

Then he vanished.

Gone again.

She didn’t remember how she got home.

The concert had ended in screams. Panic. Something that seemed triumphant by the end. But Eli felt empty. Smoke pouring from the stage like something wrong had been summoned. Some people thought the show had some of the best special effects they’d ever seen. She heard someone say a girl fainted from the hype. Others said they saw the Saja Boys disappear. She knew it wasn’t special effects. That was magic. Supernatural events she couldn’t explain. But she knew it was real.

But all Eli could do was sit in her seat.

Frozen.

The hoodie in her lap smelled like him. That was the last time she cried over him. Or so she told herself.

***

Eli was trying. She really was.

She worked a day job now, unglamorous and numb. Slept too much. Drank iced americanos like they were medicine. Avoided stages, TV music shows, and anything that tasted like regret. But today… something buzzed. Not her phone. Not her body.

The air.

It felt the same way it had at the concert. Right before he vanished. She turned a corner, trying to shake it off, and nearly walked straight into a group of girls, huddled in the alley beside a closed café. She froze when she heard the name.

“…Jinu isn’t gone. Not all the way,” one was whispering. “… his soul, yeah, but if we…”

“…don’t even say that,” another snapped. “We barely got out there. You want to go back?”

They all fell silent as Eli stepped forward. They turned slowly, startled.

Eli’s voice shook, but not with fear. She knew who they were.

“Bring him back?” she asked. “Jinu…He was a demon… right? They all were, weren't they?”

The girls looked at each other. One with lavender hair. One with heart-shaped earrings. And then-

Mira.

Eli recognized her instantly. Sharp eyes. Piercing presence. The girl who stabbed Romance on stage.

All three girls suddenly stood tall and stiff, huge friendly smiles plastered to their faces.

“What?” Answered Zoey, the other’s following her lead, “No, no, it was- uh…”

Eli ignored that. “I heard you. You were talking about Jinu. You’re trying to bring him back. It was real wasn’t it? Real demons, real magic- wasn’t it?”

The lavender-haired girl, Rumi, blinked. “Wait… aren’t you…scared? Talking about demons and stuff sounds crazy right? What do you know about all this?”

“Look, before they were the Saja Boys,” Eli said quietly, ignoring part of the question and sticking to the point, “they were a group called Eclipse88. Romance was my… we were together.”

Zoey gasped. “That’s, no way. That’s against-, Idols can’t-”

Mira didn’t gasp. She winced. Then she stepped forward, hard. “Did you really know him? Or are you just some crazy fan with a parasocial fantasy?”

Eli didn’t flinch, eyes flashing.

She pulled out her phone. Opened her old gallery.

And there they were.

Selfies in ramen shops. A candid of Romance asleep on her couch, mouth slightly open. One where he was tying her shoelaces, grinning like an idiot. She held it up.

Mira’s breath hitched.

“I knew him,” Eli said. “And you stabbed him.”

Mira’s face fell into an apologetic grin that bordered on a grimace,

“Yeah…sorry about that, I mean…he was a demon so..I had to-“

“Kill him?” Eli’s voice cracked, “Didn’t you even think for a second that there might have been more to him than that? Was he anything like the others that showed up that night?” She stepped forward, Mira held her ground, her face looked stricken.

“I’m sorry, I-“ She started, but Eli wasn’t having it.

“Sorry?!” She suddenly felt like she wasn’t talking to Mira, but a guy with pink hair who hadn’t said a word to her in over a year, “That doesn’t bring him back! Do you know how long I waited to hear from him? Nothing, not a word for a year, it’s like he was gone, then one day, there he was, beautiful and perfect and shining and like he…like I never even…” She grit her teeth, tears spilling over, “I finally get a chance to see him again then you-“

“I loved him too!” Mira yelled suddenly, cutting her off and shattering Eli’s train of thought.

She paused. Zoey and Rumi looked between them. Mira’s eyes shone, her face was red.

“You what…” Eli whispered.

“Listen…we…we have to protect the Honmoon, and I mean, they were trying to kill us too,” she hugged her arms.

Rumi put her hand on Mira’s shoulder and looked at Eli, sorrow heavy in her eyes.

“We did what we had to do...”

Zoey reached for her instead of her friends.

“Listen,” she said to the others, “Jinu was different right? So maybe the others were just obeying Gwi-ma. Maybe they were different too, and if…we can get Jinu back, maybe there’s a way to contact the others.”

Rumi looked down.

Mira studied Eli’s face.

Eli looked at her too, she swallowed.

“You…loved him too?” Her heart broke. Not for jealous reasons, but for the fact that he found someone else and not once did he say one single word to her. It didn't matter that there was another girl, there was room in both their hearts for multiple partners, it was the lack of communication that hurt the most.

Mira nodded, “Him and Abby…we…kinda had a thing…I dunno,”

All three Huntrix girls shifted uneasily.

“We all lost some one, a couple someone’s,” said Zoey, looking around sadly, “I mean, we thought they were just demons in the end too, but the more Rumi talks about Jinu and what he did, the more I think maybe…maybe we messed up.”

“We didn’t mess up,” snapped Mira, “they were still after us, even when Jinu did what he did,”

“That could have been because of Gwi-ma,” argued Zoey,

“We just don’t know enough,” Said Mira, frustrated.

Rumi huffed loudly, putting her hands to her temples,

“Listen, Jinu is…here” she touched the space over her heart, “If we can find a way to just…talk to his soul then maybe he could help.”

“I might know a way,” Eli answered. The other’s all looked at her. “My family is super into the occult, spiritual stuff you know…I grew up around spooky things like that. So…”

Mira licked her lips and stepped forward, twisting her fingers together,

“Listen uh…you wanna…grab ramen with us? It’s the least we can do after….” Killing your boyfriend in front of you, as if you weren’t already sad and traumatized enough…she didn’t say.

Eli swallowed and wiped her face,

“Do you think we can bring him back?” She asked.

The Huntrix girls all exchanged glances. Zoey looked at her, and touched her shoulder, Rumi smiled sadly, an expression that matched Mira’s.

“We’re gonna try.”

***

At the restaurant, Rumi scrolled through Eli’s gallery with permission.

“So wait, they were all human before and just...disappeared?”

“Yeah,” Eli replied, taking her phone back and opening up the long-dead Eclipse88Offical page and showing them.

“Oh my gosh is that Mystery?” Exclaimed Zoey, eyes glittering, “His eyes aren’t covered! He’s so beautiful, sculpted…”

“They all look so young,” said Mira, “This was only like a year ago?”

“I guess almost two by now,” Said Eli, looking down into her half eaten bowl of noodles.

Rumi frowned, “We’re missing something…how did they go from Eclipse88 to the Saja Boys?”

They paused, then all four girls said in unison,

“Jinu.”

“I don’t know him at all,” said Eli, “He wasn’t part of Eclipse88.”

“If only we could just talk to him…” said Rumi.

“We can go back to my place…” said Eli, “I have a black mirror there, it’s buried in my closet,”

“Black mirror?” asked Zoey.

Eli sighed, “So my mom right? She’s a witch, and she taught me how to make a scrying mirror, it’s like a magic mirror blessed with oils and stuff…you’re supposed to be able to communicate with the other side, but I never got mine to work. I always figured I just didn’t know what I was doing, maybe I still don’t, but if Jinu’s soul is with you, maybe there’s some way to like…make it work…” she finished lamely.

The others blinked at her. She squirmed awkwardly.

“Look I’m grasping at straws here, do you have a better idea?”

“That’s so cool!” Exclaimed Zoey.

“Explains why the demon stuff doesn’t bother you,” Said Mira, nudging her.

“Seems like a plan to me,” said Rumi, “Let’s go.”

***

Eli could barely process what was happening. Huntrix was in her apartment.

These superstar idols looked like shiny holographic stickers slapped awkwardly on a picture of a drab apartment from some sad magazine or something. Her wall was cracked, Romance’s orchid still bloomed from it’s place on the window in the old ramen cup.

“This place is…nice,” smiled Rumi, nudging Zoey.

“Oh, yeah! It’s…cozy!” she beamed, shying away from a cockroach that scurried under the fridge.

Eli’s arm crossed her body to hold the opposite arm at the elbow, self-conscious. Yeah...she hadn’t thought about bringing these goddesses into her humble apartment and what a….downgrade that could be.

Mira seemed unbothered,

“So…where’s this mirror?” she asked, “How’s it work?”

“Right,” Said Eli, snapping out of her shame, “This way.”

She crossed the room to the small closet and pulled out a few boxes and then a covered rectangular object wrapped in fabric. She set it up on the coffee table and pulled off the fabric.

It was ornate, gorgeous. The frame was looping black vines threaded with pearls and opals. The mirror itself like a deep black lake. It shimmered almost purple. The three hunters looked at each other. Yeah. This was the real deal.

Eli scrambled around, pulling closed curtains and gathering candles and salt.

“So you’re supposed to like…” She made a salt circle around them and set up the candles, lighting them clumsily, setting one right in front of the mirror. “So you gaze into the mirror past the candle flame and then…”

“Then what?” prompted Zoey, mystified,

“I don’t know. I never got anything else to happen.” Said Eli.

Rumi looked into the black pool that was the mirror, hard.

“Well, here goes nothing,” She held up her palm, summoning her sword, summoning Jinu. A blue light swirled above her hand and then sank into the mirror’s surface.

All four girls leaned in, watching the blue. It swirled inside the mirror, behind the candle’s reflection. And slowly, surely, took the form of a face.

Rumi’s heart skipped when she saw him.

Everyone held their breath.

And then?

Jinu’s voice came from inside the mirror.

“Rumi?”

Chapter Text

The boys hiked along a crumbling ridge in the Demon Realm the world was endless blood-colored skies, ancient obsidian cliffs, rivers of glowing ink. The terrain shifted the deeper they went. The air seemed to get lighter, more unstable, like a dream about to break. The marks that stretched over Mystery’s chest flickered again, then went cold. He shivered.

“That’s the third time today,” he muttered, brushing his fingers over it. “It’s like it’s fading.”

Romance didn’t answer. He was crouched at the edge of a jagged drop, staring down at a glimmer of light rippling across the ground far below. A crack. The kind they’d been tracking for days now.

“You think that leads to the human realm?” Baby asked, poking the air with the tip of a broken mic stand turned walking stick.

“Or to a pit full of eyeball spiders,” Abby muttered, not looking up. “Flip a coin.”

They’d found three like it so far. All of them glowing, unstable, pulsing with possibility. But none had been wide enough to pass through. And they’d watched one seal shut without warning, like a wound healing over.

“Maybe they’re not for us,” Mystery said quietly. “Maybe they’re for someone else… reaching in.”

That thought made them all still.

The wind shifted. If it could be called wind. It smelled like scorched iron and static, like something had recently screamed without making a sound. Romance rose slowly, brushing ash from his knees.

“Doesn’t matter if they’re for us or not,” he said. “We keep moving. We’re not just gonna rot in here.”

Abby slung their pack higher on his back and rolled his shoulders. His voice was low, almost too casual.

“You’re getting poetic again. Must be the end of days.”

Romance ignored him. He took one last look at the glimmering crack below, the way it pulsed, slow and golden, like a dying heartbeat, and turned away. They walked.

The terrain shifted with them. Every hour, it changed. What began as cracked obsidian became slick glass. Then soft dirt. Then something like bone, dry and hollow underfoot. There was no sun, no moon. Just that red sky, and the black peaks ahead. They hadn’t eaten. Didn’t need to. But their bodies remembered wanting. And the further they got from Gwi-Ma’s fortress, the louder those memories became. Somewhere along a sharp ridge, Baby slowed. His hoodie caught on a jagged outcrop, but he didn’t seem to notice.

“You guys remember that ramen place near the studio?” he asked suddenly. “The one with the metal chopsticks and the old lady who always called Mystery ‘girl’?”

Mystery huffed.

“She was blind, Baby.”

“Still. Good times.”

Romance said nothing, but he remembered. He remembered Eli’s laughter the night she joined them there for the first time. ‘Just a friend’ they’d said, but she’d sat on his lap. They shared one bowl.

Abby bumped his shoulder as they walked.

“You’re thinking about her again.”

Romance didn’t deny it.

Hours passed. Or maybe days. Time didn’t care about consistency here. Then, another crack. This one was different. It shimmered with blue, not gold. The air around it hummed, low and electric, like a speaker turned too high with no input. The ground beneath it was soft. Fractured. They approached carefully, breaths held.

“It’s bigger,” Mystery said. “But unstable.”

“Could crush us. Could dump us in the sea,” Abby added.

“Could take us home,” Baby said.

Romance stepped closer. The light flickered, distorted. And then, he heard it.

“…Romance?”

He froze.

The others did too.

“Did you hear that?” he asked, voice low.

Abby’s brow furrowed. “What did it say?”

Romance stepped to the edge of the crack. The light shimmered again.

“…Romance. Please… I’m here…”

Eli’s voice. Undeniably hers.

He dropped to his knees, hands outstretched but afraid to touch it. The crack pulsed, warbled.

“That’s her,” he whispered. “That’s Eli.”

Baby knelt beside him, eyes wide. “How the hell is she-”

The light flared suddenly-white-blue heat. A ripple pushed outward like a heartbeat and the crack began to close.

“No, no, no, no-!” Romance reached for it, pressed his palm to the surface. “Eli!”

She must have heard him. Because her voice came again, choked, fading:

“…I knew you were alive…”

And then it sealed.

Gone.

The rock went dark. Romance’s hand trembled against the cold surface.

“Was that real?” he gasped, looking down at his hands, the dust.

“Hard to say,” Baby answered beside him, hand on his shoulder. Frowning at the space where the tear had been.

“We can’t stay here,” Romance said, voice ragged.

“We were already leaving,” Abby replied gently.

"We..” Romance said, rising, trying to shake it off. “We need to find the next one. The right one.” He turned to the others, his eyes glowing with something new. “If she’s reaching in somehow. We have to reach back.”

***

They set up camp in a hollow beneath a twisted stone arch. There was no fire to build, no wood here, no warmth, but Baby traced a circle of glowing ash around them with the tip of his mic stand, muttering something that used to be a lyric under his breath. They all sat close. Not because they were cold. Because they were changing.

Romance lay on his back, his shoulder pressed into Abby’s side. The demon’s body was hard, always warm. Like a furnace. It was comforting, a habit now since they'd gotten so close. Now, it was almost necessary to keep the chill of this place from getting to him.

Abby’s breathing was even. His hand rested absently on Romance’s hip, his thumb stroking lazy circles against the edge of his jacket.

Romance stared up at the red sky as it pulsed slowly above them like a heartbeat. He didn’t realize his eyes had drifted closed until he woke gasping from a dream.

Eli, in a room he couldn’t quite reach. Always half-turned, always just about to leave. The sound of a song they never finished playing on some half-broken speaker in the background. She never looked back.
But tonight, her voice came clear:
“Come home.”

Romance sat up, rubbing his eyes. Sweat clung to his neck.

Abby stirred. “Nightmare?”

Romance shook his head.

“Not a nightmare,” he said softly. “More like…a memory I wasn’t there for?” Abby waited, quiet, while Romance pulled his knees up and rested his chin there. Finally, Romance spoke again. “I’ve been hearing it,” he said. “Our old stuff. Eclipse88 demos. The ones we never finished.”

Abby blinked slowly. “Like… in your dreams?”

“No,” Romance said. “In here.” He tapped his temple. “When I’m awake. It’s like someone’s playing them again. The harmonies, the layers. Even Mystery’s glitchy synth loops.”

Abby was quiet for a moment.

“That means it’s still in you.” Romance looked at him. “The music. The memory. The person who made that stuff. He’s still in there,” Abby added. “Buried under all this ash and attitude.”

Romance smiled, faint and sad.

“Sometimes I don’t know if I want him to come back. Or if I’m scared that he still could.”

Not far away, Baby dug with his mic stand. Not for any reason. Just… nervous energy. He hated sitting still. The soil here was dark crystal, like volcanic glass. Sometimes it bled. Sometimes it hummed. But this time, it crunched.

“What the hell…” Baby muttered, kneeling.

He scraped back the shards. There, caught between two jagged slabs of black, was a cracked CD. Scorched along one edge, but intact. Labeled in marker:
demo_heart.wav

His breath hitched. He wiped it gently on his sleeve and turned it over.

“Mystery’s handwriting,” he whispered.

He didn’t say anything right away. Just clutched it in his palm like it might disappear. Later that night, when the others slept, he held it over the embers of a dying ash-flicker and whispered the opening lines of the song. And in the silence that followed, he swore he heard Romance’s voice, clear and young, singing the first chorus, just like they recorded it in that shitty borrowed studio.

***

The next morning, Mystery stirred first.

“What’s that?” He asked, pointing to the bit of holographic scrap in Baby’s fingers.

Baby sat up, rubbing his face, “Found it last night,” he tossed it to him.

“Woah,” he answered, prompting Abby and Romance to wake, “I remember this one.” He handed the disk to Abby, who took it and held it for Romance to see.

“What’s it doing here?” Romance asked.

“This place is messing with us.” Answered Baby.

Mystery took the CD back from Abby.

“Wasn’t it something like…” He began to sing, the tone somber,

”My heart’s on fire and I can’t breathe,”

Baby swallowed, looking at him thoughtfully, and sang the next line,

”Like a live wire, 감정이 터지지(gam-jeong-i teo-ji-ji)” (*Translation at the end of the chapter.)

Abby joined next, the lyrics sparking to life in his memory, his voice rising,

”If I could share my heart, if I could make them see”

Romance smiled softly, remembering too, and lent his voice,

”그날의 나를 기억해줘 (Geu-nal-ui na-reul gi-eok-hae-jwo), I’m still that person, I swear baby.”

Then they all sang together, their voices harmonizing. Slow and full of yearning.

“We were more than a memory, more than a dream
Voices shared in silence, tearing at seams
Call out my name, even if it fades
On me, you can lean
I’m still the same, still the same, Oh~”

The melody faded out between them, but the air was electric. The four looked at each other in silence, breathing in the moment.

“And we never wrote the rest of it,” Said Abby.

“We could now,” Said Mystery.

“Tch, yeah, sure,” said Baby sarcastically, “who’s gonna hear it? It doesn’t matter anymore.” He got up and started walking.

Mystery shot up after him,

“For us, dude! Isn’t that why we started doing any of this? It isn’t about who’s listening. It’s about what’s in our hearts. I think we all forgot that.”

Romance and Abby looked at them, then each other, standing slowly.

Baby stopped walking, eyes ahead, on the drifting smoke of the endless wastes.

“Yeah, maybe we did.” He said under his breath.

Romance kicked at the bone dry dust under his boots. Breaking the tension with a question.

“You guys…remember how we all chose our stage names?”

Everyone considered.

Baby turned, finally meeting Romance’s eyes.

“Yeah,” he said, voice hoarse, “I remember.”

A hush settled over the little camp. The air smelled of red dust and cooling crystal, but for the first time since they’d landed in this wasteland, it also smelled faintly of nostalgia.

Mystery crouched and traced a circle in the grit with the cracked CD.

“My brother picked Mystery for me,” he murmured. “Said I was always hiding the best parts of my music. ‘Keep them guessing and they’ll lean closer.’” He smiled, small and sad. “He was right.”

Baby snorted, the sound catching halfway between a laugh and a sigh.

“I called myself Baby ’cause every producer kept saying I looked too sweet to spit bars. Figured I’d make the joke first, then hit ’em hard.” His grin faded. “Never thought I’d finish that glow up in hell.”

Abby rolled his shoulders, feeling the now-dull brand beneath his shirt.

“Mine was short for some demonic name like Abaddon. Baby said it sounded tough, metal.” He paused, then added quietly, “But the boys at the gym just called me Abby because it was easier to yell between reps...and maybe 'cuz of this,” He smoothed his hands over his rippling abs beneath his shirt, and glanced at Romance. “Turns out I liked that better.”

Romance laughed softly and glanced away from the flirt. Then felt the eyes of the others on him. He swallowed against the sudden thickness in his throat.

“I picked Romance because of Eli.”

No one interrupted.

“She told me I made every moment feel like a love song, like the world was bigger, brighter, when we were together. I… wanted the whole stage to feel that way.” A bitter laugh escaped him. “Kinda ironic now.”

Baby’s gaze softened, half his mouth turning up. “Not ironic, bro, just unfinished.”

Romance blinked, surprised.

Mystery rose, dusting off his hands. “Then let’s finish it. The song, the dream, whatever’s left of it.”

He held up the CD like a candle in the dark. Its cracked surface caught a faint glimmer of light from someplace that had no sun.

Abby nodded once, decisive. “We keep writing. We keep moving. And when we find a crack wide enough, we carry this track, our track, straight through.”

Baby smirked, the old spark returning. “Who knows, maybe the human world could use a banger from the boys who outran Hell.”

Romance felt something tighten in his chest, painful, but alive. Hope, maybe. Or the first beat of a melody that had been silent too long. A distant rumble rolled across the empty plain, the earth shifting again, like a stage crew moving set pieces. Far ahead, a new fissure split the horizon, glowing pale gold.

Mystery’s mark flickered in time with it.

“I feel it again,” he whispered. “That pull,”

Romance took and then slid the cracked CD into the inner pocket of his jacket.

“Then lets follow it.”

The four of them gathered their scant belongings and started toward the light, stage names, memories, unfinished song and all, each step a little less demon, a little more human than the one before.

Chapter Text

“Rumi?”

The voice curled out of the mirror like smoke, warm, familiar, achingly alive. For a split second, no one moved. Then-

“Oh my god!”
“It actually worked-”
“Holy cow!”
“Jinu?!”

All four girls erupted at once, voices overlapping like a chorus of disbelief. The air was suddenly electric, the candle flickering wildly in its little dish of wax and salt. Rumi nearly knocked it over lunging closer, eyes wide.

“Jinu?! Is that really you?”

The shimmer in the mirror pulsed, and his face, clearer now, shifted forward as if pressed just beneath the surface. The image wavered, but his expression was unmistakable: stunned, but soft.

“...I dunno how but, yeah.”

Zoey clutched Eli’s arm, shaking it, mouth wide. “He’s real. It freaking worked, this whole time Rumi really had his soul, he’s really there!”

“I can’t believe it,” Eli whispered, more to herself than anyone else. Her knees nearly gave out.

Mira, who had been frozen silent until now, crawled forward slowly. “Jinu… we saw you disappear. We thought you were gone.”

“I almost was.” His voice was fainter now, like radio static mixed with wind. “But part of me stayed… here. With her.”

He meant Rumi.

Rumi’s hand pressed to her chest, over where she always felt the warmth of his soul since that night.

Eli blinked. “Wait… what does that mean? Is your soul in her?”

Jinu’s face tilted slightly. “In a way. She kept a piece of me from fading.”

Zoey’s voice was full of nervous excitement. “So can you come back? Can we get you out?”

The image flickered.

“I don’t know… I’m trapped between. Not in the human world. Not quite in the demon realm either. But something’s changing. I can feel it. Gwi-ma’s grip, it’s completely gone.”

Mira’s eyes narrowed. “Because of your sacrifice?”

“Maybe,” Jinu said. “Or maybe… because of what you did, you rebuilt the Honmoon. I don’t know how the rules work now.”

Eli stiffened. “Can we get the others back?”

Jinu’s image shimmered again, fainter this time. “They’re still out there. But not for long if you don’t find a way to reach them.”

“Then tell us how,” said Rumi. “We’ll do anything, for them...for you.”

The mirror pulsed dimly now, Jinu’s form beginning to fade like mist in the sun.

“Start where it ended,” he said. “The place where we first crossed the line…”

The candle guttered.

His voice vanished.

And the mirror was just a mirror again.

Silence crashed into the room like thunder. No one breathed for a moment.

Then Mira straightened slowly. “The concert venue.”

Eli nodded, blood rushing in her ears. “That’s where we saw them last.”

Without thinking, her hand found Mira’s sleeve and held on. Mira glanced at her, just a flick of her eyes, but she didn’t pull away. She just stood steady, like she could anchor them both.

Rumi stood up next, wiping her eyes and squaring her shoulders.

Zoey rubbed her hands together. “We’re really doing this, huh?”

Rumi looked at them all. “We’re going to get them back.”

Suddenly, Rumi’s phone rang, sharp and shrill in the quiet.

Everyone jumped.

She snatched it up with a sigh and glanced at the screen. Her eyes went wide.

“Ugh. It’s Bobby.”

Zoey groaned. “Seriously?! Now?!”

“Didn’t we just finish the album shoot?” Mira asked, looking exasperated.

Rumi answered with a sigh, “Apparently not. He says we’ve got a last-minute promo taping, something about glow-in-the-dark choreography and special fan messages for the midnight drop.”

Zoey flailed dramatically. “I cannot glow and summon demons in the same day. My serotonin is on backorder.”

“I’m really sorry,” Rumi told Eli as she shoved her phone back in her jacket. “We want to keep helping. We just… can’t be late for Bobby. He’ll literally text Dispatch and say we’re having a mental health emergency.”

Eli laughed in spite of herself. “It’s okay. Idol life.”

Zoey perked up as they gathered their things. “Wait, let's trade contact info. If something changes, or if we figure out something-"

Eli reached for her phone tapping open the 'add new contact' screen and held it out. “Here.”

Zoey pushed her hand toward Mira instead, whose eyes widened but she took it.

Their fingers brushed as Eli handed it over, and something fluttered, soft, electric. Mira’s breath caught, but she took it, thumbs moving quickly as she added her number, and saved Eli’s to her own phone.

“I’ll text you,” she said, voice quieter now.

“Thanks,” Eli replied, glancing between the phone and her eyes.

Mira lingered half a step behind the others as they filed out. She glanced back just before the door closed, noting how Eli’s chin-length pastel pink hair was kinda pretty, even with how her too grown-out bangs fell over one eye.

“Hey…” she added, “Hold on, okay?”

Eli nodded.

Then she was alone.

The silence pressed back in, the other candles still flickering on the coffee table, the mirror calm and black as a lake at night. She slowly sat down again, legs folding beneath her, eyes fixed on the shimmer of glass. She relit the candle in front of the mirror,

“I don’t know if you can hear me,” she whispered. “But I’ll keep trying.”

She touched the surface. It hummed.

“Romance?” she asked. But there was no reply. “Come on..” She placed her hands on the frame and focused her energy, trying to reach for him. “I know you’re out there…somewhere…Romance..” She frowned, concentrating.

“I don’t think he can hear you,” Jinu answered.

Eli shrieked and fell back, scrambling away to the edge of the salt circle. “You’re still in there?”

“I can still hear you, if that’s what you mean.”

“No, I mean, are you inside my mirror?” She asked, crawling back, inspecting the surface that was alive with the blue light and the shape of Jinu’s face.

“No, I don’t think so? I’m in some kind of in-between, like I said.” He looked around at things Eli couldn’t see.

“What the heck…” She held her temples, looking down at her knees, “Stupid mirror, I wanna talk to my boyfriend and instead I get ghost of the guy that kidnapped him.”

“Kidnapped?! Hey I’m not a ghost- wait, boyfriend?” Jinu argued, “Hang on, who are you?”

Eli pouted, frowning and gave the mirror a look.

“I knew Romance back when he and the others were Eclipse88, apparently, before you got to them. We were...an item..” her ears turned red.

Jinu whistled and raised an eyebrow.

“Is that allowed?”

“You know it’s not. Didn’t stop you though, I saw how you and Rumi looked at each other..”

Jinu coughed and cleared his throat.

“So, what’s with the mirror?”

Eli sighed, leaning back on her arm.

“Mom’s a witch, guess that makes me one too, but I’m a lousy one. Couldn’t get the stupid mirror to work at all until Rumi did the whooshy blue glowy thing with her hand, and now..” she gestured to him, making a face.

“Ah.” He paused, awkwardly, “So…you and Romance, huh?” His mouth twisted to one side, “Explains some things.”

“Like what?”

“His name I guess,” Jinu said, “but what’s this about kidnapping? I didn’t-“

“Oh don’t start,” she glared, eyes narrowing, “I don’t know what you did, but whatever it was, he didn’t talk to me for a year, all the boys go missing, then they suddenly show up one day on TV as the Saja Boys who forgot all about poor little Eli Park. Whatever it was, it was your fault.”

Jinu’s eyes slid down and to the side, his expression went solemn.

“Yeah, I guess I did do that then…”

“Wait, so you’re here, I’m talking to you again right now, what was with the dramatic…candle-blowing-out-line-disconnected- act earlier?” She asked, sitting forward.

“Don’t ask me,” he said, “I’m not a witch,”

She huffed. “I’m gonna call my mom,”

Jinu raised his eyebrows and watched her pull out her phone.

“Mom? Hi, it’s me..yeah. Uh, so you know the mirror?”

***

She explained the situation, leaving out the specifics, just that she wanted to contact someone on the other side. Asking questions, getting answers, and then,

“Oh honey, it just needed an anchor. You can’t use a phone without dialing a number. The mirror had nothing to connect to, now it does, seems you’ve just hit redial with your energy.”

“So..how do I…dial another number?”

“Get something that belonged to him, put it in front of the mirror.”

“That’s the step I was missing?” She spun around, “Thanks mom, love you!” She hung up.

She knew just the thing. She went to an old chest by her bed and dug right to the bottom and pulled out a CD, Mystery’s handwriting scrawled across it’s surface, “demo_heart.wav” It read.

“Right,” She said, dropping down in front of Jinu’s image in the mirror. “So mom said, the connection...uuhh ‘dropped’ the first time because of me, my energy wasn’t focused enough. So like, the mirror works, it just needs power, my energy, and a ‘number’ to call. I never gave it anything, Rumi gave it you. And I have…this.”

She held it up,

“This was a song they were working on, they never finished it.”

Jinu squinted, reading the backwards (to him) handwriting.

“Demo…heart?”

“Yeah, they never came up with a title…this is just the demo mix, the beat track. Romance used to sing the first few lines for me,”

She put it down in front of mirror, and the CD caught the candlelight, then shimmered faintly, the surface pulsing like a heartbeat. She sang the first verse,

“My heart’s on fire and I can’t breathe
Like a live wire, 감정이 터지지
If I could share my heart, if I could make them see
그날의 나를 기억해줘, I’m still that person- I swear baby…”

“Sounds nice,” said Jinu softly. The mirror shimmered over with purple.

She frowned, “The rest is like…” She closed her eyes, focusing on the old lyrics,

“We were more than a memory, more than a…meme? No, that’s not it..”

“You almost had it,” Jinu said, “I felt something.”

She thought hard. Then, “Ugh, I can’t remember the rest,” She said, frustrated, “It wasn’t finished.”

“Maybe you don’t need the lyrics. Just focus on the feeling.” Offered Jinu.

“You’re right,” She hummed the melody, holding the mirror frame and closing her eyes.

Jinu looked around inside his limbo as her voice wove itself into blue-purple ribbon of light. It sparkled with glimmers of pink and snaked away into the mist above his head.

He followed it, as if it would lead him somewhere.

She opened her eyes. The mirror was dark again, candle flickering in a shadowy reflection.

No Romance, and now no Jinu. Huh...

She sat back, giving up for the moment.

Her phone buzzed.

[Mira 💔💥]:
"Hey. Just checking in. You okay?
Rumi said you might be feeling kinda…intense after all that.
If it gets weird, light another candle. Or call me.
…Or both. 🌙💬"
"PS. I meant to say earlier, your hair is really pretty. I like the pink. It suits you."

She reached up for the pink locks and tucked them behind her ear, though the too long-yet-too-short bangs stubbornly fell back over her eye, she was smiling.

“Ugh..” she grunted outloud to herself. She got up and blew out the candles around the mirror and reached for the broom to sweep up the salt. “Yeah, that’s cool Eli, get all flustered over the girl who stabbed Romance. That’s healthy, makes sense. Love that for you.”

She swept. Picturing Mira’s voice saying those words, ‘your hair is really pretty.’ Her heart skipped. She grit her teeth and swept faster, comically, whipping up a cloud of dust, coughing, and then dumped the salt back into a jar, holding her hands over it to purify and ground the energy again so it could be reused.

“She’s probably just being nice. You know, damage control…Hunter’s guilt….right?” She said aloud to no one.

Then she plopped onto the couch, staring at the reply field of her phone. Mira from Huntrix just texted her. She should text back right? But what? Tell her Jinu showed up again? That she made progress with the mirror? Or that maybe…maybe she was already forgiving her more than she was ready to really admit?

Yeah, she wanted to stay mad at her. But…her mind flashed through the memory in the alleyway, the look on her face when she yelled “I loved him too!” It was hard to be mad at that when she saw her own pain and loss right there on Mira’s flawless face.<.p>

“Ugh,” She groaned again. Her stomach growled. She flopped over a throw pillow and hugged it to her chest, staring at the phone next to her like it was an unsolvable rubik’s cube.

She read Mira’s text about a hundred more times and then looked up at the ceiling. She wanted to find Romance, give him a piece of her mind for ignoring her for a year, and then maybe cry for twelve more years in his arms. Come to think of it, Jinu needed an earful too. There was just too much going on. And in between this and meeting Huntrix, The Huntrix, in the flesh, having them in her grungy apartment, eating ramen at a restaurant with them. Her mind swirled over Mira’s face, her hair, her sharp eyes and pointed features. The way her face turned red, her tall stature. And then her breath caught and she covered her eyes with her arm and groaned again. It was official: she had a crush on a demon hunter. Great. Just great.

Chapter Text

The ribbon shimmered like memory.

Jinu walked beneath it, eyes trained on the flickers of pink and violet above his head. It danced through the fog like it had somewhere to be, some one to reach, and he was just the stray thread caught on its heel.
He hadn’t expected the song to work, he didn’t know what he expected in this place. He definitely hadn’t expected her.

Eli Park. Romance’s girl, (who knew?) sitting in front of the mirror like a storm wrapped in pink bangs and defiance. She had fire in her, the kind he’d only seen once before. Rumi.
God, Rumi.

His chest ached just thinking her name. She had looked at him, for the first time since his sacrifice. Just for a moment, before the connection cut out. With absolute awe. Not like the first time, like she was still waiting to decide if he deserved to exist.

And maybe he didn’t. Maybe none of this should’ve happened. He hadn’t meant for it to go so wrong.

Back when in between Gwi-ma and soul snatching...they were just five idols shoved into a practice room with cheap takeout and new shoes, it was easier. Even when their powers skyrocketed, even when the demon marks burned their way into their skin, there was something human about it all. About them.

He used to stay up late with Abby, scribbling lyrics in the margins of their notebooks. Used to hear Baby scream with laughter at his own bad puns while Mystery kicked over water bottles trying to moonwalk in socks. Used to watch Romance in the quiet moments, headphones on, swaying softly, unaware anyone was looking. He was so in it, so sincere. That guy had always felt too delicate for this place. But Jinu took them here anyway.

He clenched his jaw, eyes narrowing as the ribbon curved sharply through the air like it had heard his guilt and wanted to escape it.

“You can’t outrun it,” he muttered to no one. “I tried.”

The light pulsed once, softly. Like a heartbeat.

He slowed.

Somewhere far off in the in-between, he could feel them. The others. Romance most clearly, like a fire that refused to go out. Abby and Mystery too. Even Baby, restless and sharp-edged like always.

They were out there.

Still alive.

Still them.

He hadn’t led them into this to die. Sure, he’d originally done it to save himself, and then as he got to know them, he’d hoped, maybe he’d save them too. From what, he still wasn’t sure, maybe the crushing machine of the idol industry, maybe themselves, maybe the world that never really saw them as anything but monsters. But they were slipping through his fingers now, scattered like the ash that floated endlessly in this place.

The light above him curved again, descending toward a jagged cliff edge that shimmered with possibility. A crack? Another mirror?

He stepped forward slowly. Closer. Closer,

Then it faded.

The ribbon vanished into the mist, leaving behind only the echo of a note unsung.

Jinu cursed under his breath and sat hard on the nearest stone. He pressed his palms to his eyes and exhaled.

“I’m trying,” he said aloud, voice hoarse. “You have no idea how hard I’m trying.”

The air didn't answer, but the ground pulsed once, faintly. Somewhere out there, a connection had been made.

He just had to keep going…somehow. He sat down and stared out over the rolling mist.

***

Their boots dragged through the black dust.

It didn’t matter how far they walked, how many crystal ridges they passed or ash dunes they crossed, nothing ever changed. The sky was always choked with violet clouds. The wind always whispered things it shouldn’t know.
“I swear, if I see one more hill,” Baby groaned, dropping onto a jagged boulder with a thump, “I’m gonna lose it.”

“You already lost it,” Mystery muttered, arms crossed, his boots scuffing the dirt.

Romance winced at the tension in the air, but he said nothing.

“Oh please, I’m the one dragging your sorry ass across this demon wasteland,” Baby snapped. “Maybe if you didn’t trip over every rock we passed, ”

“Maybe if you weren’t screaming in your sleep last night,”

“Alright, that’s enough,” Abby snapped, stopping in his tracks. “We’re tired. We’re hungry- which is weird. We’ve been walking for days-probably, and none of us knows where the hell we’re going.”

Romance turned, rubbing his face. “It’s not just the walking… It’s this place. It’s like it’s wearing us down from the inside.”

Silence.

Baby looked away. Mystery’s hands dropped to his sides. Abby exhaled slowly and ran a hand through his pink hair, abs flexing as he stretched his back with a wince. Then, without a word, Mystery walked over to Baby and pulled him into a tight hug.

“…Sorry,” he mumbled into his shoulder. “I’m just scared.”

Baby froze for a second, then hugged back.

Abby moved closer, clapping both of them on the back before pulling them in, arms wide enough to wrap around them both.

Romance stared for a moment, his throat tight. Then he stepped forward too, falling into the warmth, their circle of apology and exhaustion and love.

They stood like that for a long moment. Quiet.

Then,

“Wait,” Mystery whispered. They all looked up.

A shimmer floated above them, winding lazily through the air like a ribbon caught in the wind. A ribbon of light. Pink, violet and blue. Familiar. Soft.

“…Do you see that?” Abby asked, his voice low, like he was scared to breathe.

Romance stared, eyes wide. His heart stuttered.

Then, a voice.

So faint, like it had traveled through water and memory just to reach him.

"My heart’s on fire and I can’t breathe..."

Romance gasped, stepping out of the circle, eyes locked on the ribbon. “Eli…”

“What did you say?” Baby asked, but Romance didn’t answer.

The voice continued, echoing like starlight.

"If I could share my heart, if I could make them see..."

“She’s singing it,” Romance whispered. “Our song. She’s singing our song.”

The others looked at each other, hope blooming in wary hearts. Without another word, they started to follow it.

Romance took the first step.

Then another.

Then, he opened his mouth, breath catching in his throat, and began to sing.

“We were more than a memory, more than a dream…”
Mystery joined next, quiet but steady, eyes never leaving the ribbon above them, that seemed to glow and pulse with the rhythm.
“Voices shared in silence, tearing at seams…”
Abby’s voice followed, low and full of power:
“Call out my name, even if it fades…”

And all four of them, shaking, aching, worn raw by time and grief, sang together:
“On me, you can lean
I’m still the same, still the same, Oh~”

The last note drifted out into the void, carried away by the wind. The ribbon flickered… and began to fade.

“No, wait,” Romance called, reaching for it. But it slipped away like a sigh, disappearing into the smoke.

Silence settled around them again. But it was different now, less hollow. Less cruel.

Baby ran a hand over his face and exhaled. Then he started mumbling to himself.
“Can’t keep track of the silence… can’t keep track of the lies…”

Mystery turned to him. “You okay?”

But Baby wasn’t listening. He was in his head, lips moving, whispering the rhythm to himself.
“Gotta fix this broken mess… this piece of me turned dark…”

Romance smiled faintly as he recognized the cadence. “It’s a rap verse, Baby, are you writing the next part?”

Baby blinked, still half-lost in thought. “Huh? …Yeah. I guess I am.”

He pulled a cracked pen from his jacket pocket and started scribbling the words on the inside of his arm.

Abby chuckled. “Classic.”

Mystery just grinned. “It’s about time.”

They all stopped, gathering around, trying to read the scrawls as Baby repeated them.
“Can’t keep track of the silence,
can’t keep track of the lies,
It’s so hard I can’t do this,
It’s so much harder each time,”

He hesitated, thinking, then pointed, pen in one hand, fingers tumbling over each other as if to track the change in cadence,
“I wanna lean on you,
Can’t keep up this dream for you,
Gotta pick, it’s me or you,
Maybe it’s mean when I ignore you,”

He paused and his eyes lifted but he wasn’t looking at them, gaze far away, chasing the muse, he was smiling. The rhythm changed again, faster, and the ribbon shimmered above them.
”But I gotta fix this broken mess,
This piece of me turned dark,
Gotta fix this broken man, this broken world,
And find that piece my heart.”

He reached for his brothers, grabbing Mystery by the elbow, and Abby by the shoulder, eyes bright, looking between them. Changing the cadence again.
“If you wait,
Just sit down and hesitate,
Maybe I’ll be worth the wait,”
Cross your heart..” he paused, voice dropping dramatically,
“‘Cuz I know that I‘ll be late.”

All of their eyes fell on Romance, when he immediately began to sing to the next part, as if it had been written all along. His eyes on the brightening ribbon of light, voice ringing out, rising in pitch, to a hopeful note. The eyes of the others turned misty.

“And I can do this, I swear… I will do this, I care”

Mystery came in, swallowing back unreadable emotion and lending his voice as he put a palm on Romance’s shoulder,
“기다려줘, 나 아직 그때 그대로야 (Gi-da-ryeo-jwo, na a-jik geu-ttae geu-dae-ro-ya),
(Please wait for me, I’m still the way I was back then)”

Abby looked down, almost whispering the next lyric, but then looked at Romance’s face, into his eyes, his voice building strength and breaking into a cascading vocal run, the kind that left goosebumps and that made Romance’s heart skip.

“Still fighting through the dark…don’t go anywhere."

Abby voice soared up and the others looked at each other, starting the chorus again before he finished, they sang, and the ribbon flared brightly, Abby joined in on the second line and they all turned and ran after it, their voices ringing out in harmony.

“We were more than a memory, more than a dream
Running out of time in a world split at the seams
But I believe, even if it breaks
If you hold on tight, don’t let it fade
I’m still the same, Ohhh~
More than a memory, more than a dream
Running out of time in a world split at the seams
But we still believe, even if it breaks
If you hold on tight, don’t let it fade
We’re still the same, Oh~”

Breathless, they all stopped at the base of a huge wall of stone so high that the top was hidden behind thick mist.

“I gotta write that down!” Baby leaned his back to the stone and kept scribbling down his arm.

Romance stared at the ribbon of light that went straight up into the mist.

“I guess we go that way,” He said.

Abby stepped up next to him, hands on his hips, Observing the sheer cliff face
.
“Sure, looks easy enough.”

Baby finished writing and looked up, then gave Abby a look.

“Yeah, for you maybe, Mr. Biceps.”

“Sorry, I forgot my climbing gear at home,” Mystery said sarcastically, crossing his arms, “How are we supposed to get up there? Anybody got a carabiner?”

“A cara-what?” Asked Baby.

“Nevermind that,” Said Romance, “Listen, do you hear that?”

A voice, faint and far away somewhere in the mist. It was low in pitch. Singing back to them.

“… a memory, more than a dream,
Running out of time in a world split at the seams,”

“Jinu?” Whispered Romance, looking up at the thick mist.

“It’s Jinu!” Shouted Abby. He cupped his hands around his mouth, “Hey Jinu! You up there! It’s us, it’s the Saja Boys!”

***
Jinu had sat on that cliff for ages it seemed. Humming the opening verse of their song. But then, he’d looked up as the ribbon of light shot up from below the mist. Though at this angle, it wasn’t so much a ribbon overhead, but a pillar of light that faded into whispy colored smoke at the top.

He heard voices, not just any voices, their voices, singing what sounded like the rest of the chorus Eli had started to sing.

His heart rate skyrocketed, eyes going wide. Were they really down there?

The sound stopped, and the ribbon started to disintegrate. So he sang again, scrambling to remember the words he’d just heard and hoping he repeated them correctly, in the effort to keep it there. Then he heard Abby’s voice shout up from below and tears pricked his eyes. He took a breath around the lump in his throat,

“Yeah!” He shouted back, his voice stuttering with emotion, “It’s me! I’m- I’m up here!”

He let out a breath, eyes shining even though he couldn’t see them through the thick mist. Then, quickly, over his pounding heart, he said, “Hey, listen, you guys, I’m sorry about everything. I never meant-,”

“Don’t get sappy on us now, snowflake!” It was Baby, “Tell us how the hell to get up there!”

“I…I don’t know, try singing again,” Jinu called.

“Alright, right after the rap break then, Romance, that’s you,” Said Baby,

Romance looked up, hopeful,

”And I can do this, I swear. I will do this, I care.”

The ribbon shimmered and changed shape, the pink turning into a ribbon all its own, forming a blocky…stair-like shape before them. His eyes widened and he practically jumped on Mystery’s shoulder, pushing him to sing the next line.

“You’re telling me this thing wanted an encore?” Abby said,

“Guess we really are magic now,” said Baby.

Mystery smiled and sang his part. A silverly line formed in the light, threaded next to the pink, the ‘stairway’ widened.

The others added to it, until they sang the chorus again. The light-ribbon stairs descended until it met the dusty ground before them. Mystery reached out, the light was still just light. His hand passed through the steps.

“You sing too Jinu!” Shouted Baby, eyes on Mystery’s hand in the shimmer of colors representing each of them, pink, silver, teal-blue, red.

They repeated the chorus for him, singing up through the mist.

He sang back down to them, joining when he had the lyrics in his mind. When he did, the mist started to part, their light stairs crawling up to him, bordering the edge of the cliff at his feet, solidifying into something solid and real. The swirling mist continued to part and then, he could see them.

Four figures in black, no longer in their hanbok, just in black clothes. Jinu tossed his hat down onto the steps, just to be sure. It landed on them, solid. The figures were so far below, he couldn’t make out their faces. Just the colors of their hair, the rough shape of each one’s form enough to tell who was who.

“Jinu!” Abby yelled, already starting up the steps, the other’s clamoring after, climbing the steps in a rush.

Jinu started to run down toward them too, not even thinking about it.

It was a lot of steps, but Abby got to him first, lifting him up in a crushing hug that left him gasping.

The others gathered around on the steps hugging him and saying (more like blubbering) things nobody could really make out. All of it relieved and grateful, it was possible(sarcasm) they were all crying, hugging and sniffling.

“We saw you do it bro, we saw you get your soul back,” croaked Baby,

“And give it up too,” said Mystery.

“You were such a goner,” said Abby.

“But you’re here,” said Romance, “Maybe there’s hope for us too.”

“I’m so glad to see you guys,” said Jinu, voice hoarse, “I’m so…I’m sorry, for everything.”

“Hey, n-no crying,” Said Baby, trying to sound tough, though tears shone on his cheeks.

“That’s in the past,” said Mystery, “All is forgiven now, right guys?” He looked between them, the others all seemed to nod, “Now, let’s get up these stairs before they disappear.”

Chapter Text

Eli sat on the closed toilet seat in the bathroom of Bobby Ramen, elbows on her knees, phone glowing in the dim light. Her work apron was still tied around her waist, her eyeliner smudged at the corners. The air smelled faintly of soy and bleach. She'd typed a dozen versions of the message by now, each more awkward than the last.

Her thumb hovered over the send button.

“You’re kinda hard to stay mad at,” she whispered aloud, almost cringing. “Ugh, whatever.”

And she hit send.

The screen went dim again, and she just stared at her reflection in the screen. Her pink hair was frizzed at the ends. She shoved it behind her ears, took a breath, and muttered, “Please don’t be a mistake.”
Then she flushed the toilet for plausible deniability and stepped up to the sink. She read the text again.

[Eli 💕📀]:
"Hey...
Thanks for checking on me.
You were right, I’ve been feeling kinda... a lot. But the candle thing helped. And your message helped too.
So... thanks. 💗
P.S. Pretty bold to compliment my hair after stabbing my boyfriend, just sayin’. 😆
But... it meant a lot. You didn’t have to say that.
You’re kinda hard to stay mad at."

“Was that dumb?” She asked her reflection, “That was so dumb!” She growled, “Ugh! I sound like an idiot!”
Her phone buzzed and she clamored for it so urgently, she almost dropped it in the sink.

[Mira 💔💥]:
“Hey…
Thanks for texting me.
I wasn’t sure if you would.
maybe I’m just sayin’, I’m gonna help you get him back.
Then maybe he can be our boyfriend 😏
(Also… you do have good bangs.)
If you ever wanna talk more, I’d like that.”
🌙✨

Eli’s jaw dropped. The audacity! She was as stunned as she was giddy. Stab a man, get him back from the afterlife, form a polycule with his ex and his bandmate? Yeah. Sane. Perfect.
She could seriously NOT with this girl!

Oh but she could…she so could…

Wait, did she just think of herself as Romance’s ex? Absolutely not. She didn’t like that. She preferred the “what are we?” territory to full on “not together” status. Though she supposed they weren’t. Total silence for more than a year was kind of an indicator…maybe it was over. She frowned. Maybe it wasn’t.

She stormed out of the bathroom, calling out her goodbyes in Hangul to her coworkers and pulling off her apron in exchange for her jacket and walked out into the night.
Her phone buzzed again.

[Mira 💔💥]:
“Sooo… not to be weird,
but would you wanna come by our place tonight?
It’s the fancy flat Huntrix fans love to stalk online 🙄
We’ve got ramen, ghost stories, and possibly haunted wall art.
Or I could kidnap you to rehearsal first if that’s less creepy?
Say yes. I promise I don’t bite.
(Unless you ask nicely.) 🦇💋”

Her face burned, her heart raced. Her thumbs flew over the screen.

[Eli 💕📀]:
”You just offered ‘kidnapping’ as a ‘less creepy’ alternative to a house visit.
But yeah, I’m down. Give me an hour, I just got off work.
I smell like soy sauce and sadness.

[Mira 💔💥]:
“Ooh, noted. Shower first, sadness optional.
Door code’s 1988.
Top floor, corner unit. You’ll know it by the neon sign that says ‘Absolutely Not Haunted.’ 💅👻
I’ll put on tea or tequila, whichever speaks to your spirit.”

[Eli 💕📀]:
”Hey, just ‘cuz I’m a witch doesn’t mean I love creepy stuff.
Just kidding…I like creepy stuff. But I also like cute stuff…”

[Mira 💔💥]:
“Lucky for you, I come in both flavors. 😈🎀
Hope you like your haunted apartments with mood lighting and Hello Kitty mugs.”

Eli stopped in her tracks, brain short-circuiting over the text. There was no mistake, she was flirting. Mira from Huntrix the boyfriend stabber was flirting with her!
She shoved the phone back into her pocket. Let that one cook for a while.

One everything shower later, and a quick pick of an off-shoulder crop top and high waisted shorts, she ran out through door, her black converse with pink stars hitting the pavement.

[Eli 💕📀]:
I’m ready. You picking me up or am I taking a cab?

No reply.

Eli was just about to check her phone again when an unfamiliar honk split the air—short, sharp, impatient. She turned and nearly tripped over her own feet.

There, parked slightly crooked in front of her building, was a black Jeep with hot pink decals and a Hello Kitty air freshener swinging from the rearview. Mira was leaned against the driver’s side door, sunglasses low on her nose, hair half-up in her signature twin half-pigtails.

“About time,” she said, pushing off the Jeep with a wink. “Get in, loser. We’re summoning ghosts.”

Eli’s heart nearly fell out of her chest. She cleared her throat and tried not to visibly melt. “You actually...okay. Okay.”

She climbed in, clutching her little purse like a lifeline, only to be hit with a waft of coconut air freshener and incense. The stereo was already playing something sultry and unreasonably cool, Eli tried to recognize it, some kind of synthy indie pop.

Mira slid in beside her, tossed her phone into the cupholder, and pulled away from the curb with one hand on the wheel and the other already adjusting the volume. “So,” she said, glancing over with that same devastating smirk. “Tell me what kinda witch you are. Crystal girl? Candle hoarder? The blood-of-my-enemies type?”

“Th-the…blows cinnamon through the door on the first of the month and forgets to charge her moonwater type?.. I might have some crystals…” Eli’s heard was pounding, “Now I guess I’m the ‘talks to ghosts’ type.”
Mira laughed—low, delighted, a little raspy. “That’s hot,” she said, shooting Eli a look over her sunglasses. “You’re like... if a Tumblr post from 2013 came to life and accidentally became a medium.”
Eli buried her face in her hands. “Why are you like this?”

“Because it works,” Mira shrugged, spinning the wheel with her knee like a showoff as she reached into the glove compartment and pulled out a stick of gum and a small packet of salt. “Besides, you’re cute when you panic. Here.”
She handed Eli the salt.

“…What’s this for?”

“In case something tries to follow you home.”

Eli blinked. “Wait, are you serious?”

Mira just grinned and tapped the brakes at a red light. “Dead serious.”

And that’s when Eli realized, somehow, Mira was always serious and always joking at the same time. Which made everything ten times more confusing. And kind of irresistible.

Eli turned the salt packet over in her hand, barely registering Mira’s teasing. Her purse felt warm against her thigh, not literally, but with the hum of something new, something she’d made.
Tucked safely in the inner pocket, wrapped in a scrap of velvet from an old band tee, was the CD.

Only… it wasn’t just a CD anymore.

Last night, she’d stayed up until 3 a.m., instinct and adrenaline guiding her hands. She’d traced runes in eyeliner, whispered to the reflection in its surface bind the charm. Now, when she held it and focused her energy, she knew it would work. Jinu was just on the other side. A flicker. A pulse. Like his spirit had left fingerprints on the disc, and she’d managed to preserve them. She just needed to try using it to reach the others. A pocket mirror for a ghost…like a cell phone. Way more portable than the heavy mirror she’d put back in her closet. Something about that felt poetic as hell. She glanced at Mira from the corner of her eye. Should she show her?

Mira caught her looking and arched an eyebrow. “You’re plotting something.”

Eli smirked despite herself. “Maybe.”

Mira grinned. “God, I hope it’s dangerous.”

That made Eli laugh, nerves flaring, excitement blooming in her chest. “Dangerous is subjective. You believe in magic, right?”

Mira turned to her at the next red light, eyes hidden behind the sheen of her sunglasses. “Babe. I count on it.”

Eli’s hand slid into her bag, fingers brushing the paper sleeve of the CD. “Good. Then I wanna show you something when we get there.”

They sped through the city in a blur of neon signs and streetlights, music low and pulsing like a heartbeat. Mira drove like she did everything else. reckless but weirdly precise, one hand on the wheel, the other tapping the rhythm against her thigh.

Eli stole a glance at her.

The edge of her jaw caught a glint of red light. Her lips curled just slightly at the corners, mouthing along to the song. She had two mismatched earrings, a tiny knife on one side and a pink gummy bear on the other. She looked like trouble and comfort at the same time.

Eli’s heart kicked. Hard. She tore her gaze away, cheeks warming, suddenly fascinated by the sticker-covered dashboard. A beat passed. Maybe two.

Mira didn’t say anything.

But Eli saw the way her fingers paused for a second in their rhythm, the way one corner of her mouth twitched higher, like she’d noticed. Like she always noticed. They didn’t talk the rest of the drive. Didn’t need to.

***

The luxury SUV eased to a stop in front of a sleek, mirrored high-rise. One floor near the top pulsed faintly with violet light, and a discreet sign at the building’s lobby entrance read:

"VIBEHAUS: Private Studios & Premium Artist Suites
(Access by appointment only.)"

Mira plucked her keycard from the dash and tossed Eli a grin.

“Welcome to the underworld, sweetheart.”

As they stepped into the glass-paneled elevator, ambient music echoed faintly from overhead—synth-heavy, unsettling in all the right ways. By the time the doors slid open onto the private floor, the sound deepened into a rhythmic pulse, like bones rattling in a velvet-lined coffin.

Eli clutched her bag, heart pounding again. She wasn’t sure if it was the ghost tucked inside her purse…Or the girl walking beside her. She followed the taller girl wondering if she had ever been in such a nice place in her life and concluded, she hadn’t. Concluded she was probably too poor to afford to breathe in here.

Mira lead her down a shiny guilded hallway and pushed open the double doors where the music was loudest.

Zoey and Rumi were mid dance routine with Rumi counting loudly,

“One-two, three-four, five-six, seven-eight,” The two moved together, foot-hip, arm-hip, hair-flip, bodyroll.

“You guys kept going without me?” Mira whined.

“Eli, you made it!” Zoey shouted, breathless and beaming as she jogged over, her crop top clinging to her ribs and a glittery sweatband pushing back flyaways.

“Oh, I’d hug you, but-” she gestured to herself, slick with effort.

“Uh, yeah, take five,” Rumi said, barely glancing over, already queuing up the track again from a sleek tablet perched on a stand.

Zoey shot a wink at Eli and bounded over to the wall where a few towels and water bottles were laid out.

Mira peeled off her jacket and tossed it lazily onto a couch near the corner, then turned to Eli with a mischievous smile. “So? Not exactly a creepy witch’s den, huh?”

“No,” Eli said, her voice almost too small to hear under the heavy beat still pulsing from the speaker. She took a few tentative steps forward, peering around at the plush black acoustic panels, the LED strips curling like electric veins across the ceiling, and the framed photos of legendary pop idols hung at perfect angles. “It’s like… professional. Like, crazy professional.”

“Duh,” Mira smirked, crossing her arms. “This is Huntrix, baby. We haunt the charts and the rehearsal rooms.”

Eli blinked, flustered.

Mira let out a laugh-low and surprisingly warm. “Come on. I’ll show you the sound booth.”

Eli had never gotten to see a soundbooth. Dating romance in secret meant getting to show up with the guys to practice was basically forbidden. But as she stepped into the beautifully soundproofed and polished chamber, she guessed the boys had never seen anything this professional in their days as Eclispe 88. This was the real thing. High end. Perfect.

Rumi followed.

“Wanna hear what we’re working on?” She asked with a cheeky grin.

Eli’s eyes widened, “What? Me? That’s exclusive secret stuff, I can’t hear that,”

“Why?” asked Mira, suddenly leaning close enough that her hair brushed Eli’s arm, “You gonna leak it?”

“N-No,” she stuttered, looking at the pink locks, and then her eyes and distractingly pink eyeshadow with silver glitter.

“Great!” Said Mira, her sharp eyes pairing with a satisfied smirk that turned Eli’s ears red.

Zoey came over, smiling conspiratorially and looked at Rum expectantly.

Eli held her breath, she was about to hear Huntrix sing, off record, a capella,

Rumi began,
“You couldn’t love all of me,
But I found the parts of me
And I said, I do,
Breaking the chains on me,
blasting the walls from me,
you can’t run from the truth”

Mira sang next, her body swaying a bit closer, making Eli shy toward Rumi as her skin lit up with goosebumps
“Sisters in harmony, 사랑이 전부이니 (sarangi jeonbuini)
(Love is everything)!”
“We are more than our voices
Our hearts come alive
Gonna love hard until we take back the signs
상처마저 아름다우니 (sangcheomajeo areumdauni)
(Even our scars are beautiful)
서로를 비추는 빛이니 (seororeul bichuneun bichini)
(We’re the light that shines on each other)”

“Then we need a chorus,” chimed Zoey, but I’ve got about thirty seven different ideas, and we’re still tweaking things.”

Eli blinked, “That was beautiful,” she said, “What was the inspo?”

Rumi smiled sadly and looked down, “There was someone who was like a mother to me…she did her best, but she wasn’t perfect. The song is about finding strength in the people who can love you…all of you.” Zoey squeezed Rumi’s shoulder, smiling at her with care.

Mira smiled with her arms crossed, affection evident.

Even Eli felt the bonds here for a moment and smiled too.

“That’s such a great message,” she said, “thanks for sharing,”

“No problem,” Said Rumi, letting out a breath and smiling.

“So what’s this thing you gotta show us?” Said Mira?

“Oh!” Eli dug in her bag, pulling out the cd. “This!”

Zoey Squinted to read it, “Demo heart dot wav?”

“So after you guys left, Jinu appeared in the mirror again when I was trying to contact Romance-“

“He did?” Interrupted Rumi, Hopeful.

“Let her finish,” scolded Mira, “Then what?”

“I called my mom for help, she said to connect Romance, I needed something that belonged to him. So I pulled this out. This CD is a demo track from when the guys were Eclipse 88, it should be connected to tall of them. You gave my mirror a piece of Jinu’s Energy, that’s why it made contact with him. This Cd should have given my mirror the signature of the guys. I haven’t gotten to try it, but I enchanted this to work like a magic mirror on its own, in theory, it should be a direct line to them. I just haven’t gotten to use it yet.”

“Oh! But it’s small, practical, like a supernatural cell phone!” Chimed Zoey!

“Yes! Said Eli.

“Well then we should test it,” said Mira, already leading them back to the dance rehearsal room.

Eli’s eyes widened, running after her. “Wait, right now?”

“Why not?” Zoey bounced on her heels. “We’ve got moonlight, magic, and a reinforced rehearsal room. What could possibly go wrong?”

“I would say don’t say that,” said Rumi, when they walked back into the mirrored room, reaching for her water bottle. “I would say that’s like asking for a demon to show up. Except we are asking for a bunch of demons to show up.”

Zoey giggled, “Just the ones we know.”

Mira shrugged off her jacket and knelt beside Eli, nodding to the CD. “You enchanted it, right? How do we activate it?”

“I, um—” Eli blinked, surprised by the sudden attention. “It responds to energy. Like the mirror. It just needs intent, and a little push from all of us.”

“Perfect,” said Rumi, setting her bottle aside. “We’ll give it our best shot.”

Zoey dropped down cross-legged on the other side of the CD. “Can we chant? I love chanting.”

Mira raised an eyebrow. “We are not doing a TikTok coven chant.”

“I didn’t say that!” Zoey giggled, already clasping her hands in mock solemnity.

Eli smiled nervously, settling the CD carefully on the ground in the center of the group. “Okay… everybody close your eyes, and think of them. Romance. Baby. Abby. Mystery. Focus on the music. The connection.”
A hush fell over the room. For a moment, the only sound was the faint beat still leaking through the walls from another studio.

Then,

The CD shimmered.

A soft, violet light pulsed beneath it.

Eli’s breath caught. “It’s working…”

Chapter Text

They sat in the stillness after the climb, breath fogging in the mist that hung around the edge of the ledge. The ribbon of light had quieted now, flickered out and gone away in the colorless space.

Romance leaned forward, elbows on his knees, fingers laced. He hadn’t said much since they pulled Jinu into a tight, clumsy hug, arms and apologies tangled together, and now at the top of the cliff, sitting in the dust, the weight of everything sat between them.

"I was with someone," he said quietly, eyes fixed on the pale glow ahead. "Before the spell. Before all of this."

Jinu glanced at him, but said nothing yet, though he knew.

“Her name’s Eli. She was…” he swallowed, jaw tight. “She was everything. But when Gwi-ma’s control took hold, it was like someone erased her. Like… she never existed. I didn’t even know what was missing. Just this big hollow space where something important should’ve been.”

He looked up finally, voice thick. “I…forgot her. Completely. Until recently. After that concert, in all this time since Huntrix destroyed us, it’s been coming back in pieces more and more. And now I keep thinking… maybe it’s too late. Maybe she gave up. Maybe I lost my chance.”

Jinu was quiet for a beat. Then he exhaled through his nose and gave a small, incredulous shake of his head.

“She didn’t give up.”

Romance turned sharply. “What?”

Jinu gave him a crooked smile, something bruised but sincere. “I talked to her. Through a mirror. She’s still trying, Romance. She lit a candle, she called for you. She’s the reason I was able to found you.”

Romance’s mouth parted, his eyes wide and glassy. “You… you talked to her?”

Jinu nodded. “She’s feisty as hell. Thought it was some evil mirror goblin at first.”

A laugh, choked with disbelief, escaped Romance’s throat. He pressed a hand over his mouth, shaking his head as tears stung the corners of his eyes. “Gods… I was starting to think I made her up or was going crazy...”

“She’s real. And she hasn’t stopped calling out for you.”

Romance wiped his eyes, voice cracking as he spoke. “I don’t deserve her.”

“Well,” Jinu said gently, “maybe not. But love’s not about deserving. It’s about what you do now.” He reached over, gave Romance’s shoulder a firm squeeze. “So the question is, what are you gonna do?” Just then, something pulsed, a faint glow from inside Romance’s coat.

All four boys turned at once, eyes narrowing, breath held.

Romance stiffened. The glow grew brighter.

From within, a voice, soft, slightly tinny, but unmistakable.

“I don’t see anything yet,” said Mira, uncertain.

Rumi’s voice followed, a little closer, a little sharper. “Is it supposed to be that dark?”

Romance didn’t breathe.

Abby’s eyes went wide. “Was that-?”

Zoey's voice came through next, calm, confident. “Eli knows what she’s doing. So trust the process.”

The world went still. And then,

“Romance? Can you hear me?”

Her voice. Her voice. Like moonlight through a fogged window. Gentle. Real.

Romance’s lips parted, but no sound came. Slowly, as if his entire body resisted movement, he reached into his coat. His fingers found the object tucked beneath the inner lining.

The cracked CD.

Its surface shimmered with purple-blue light. He pulled it out, staring at it like it might vanish if he blinked too hard.

Baby whispered, “That’s our old demo CD…It’s..talking?”

Romance couldn’t answer. His heart was thundering too loud to speak.

“Romance,” came her voice again, softer now, trembling. “If you’re there… please. Say something.”

His eyes stung. He clutched the glowing CD in both hands, pressing it gently to his heart, and finally, finally whispered-

“…Eli?”

The light flared. In the mirrored surface of the CD, clean and glowing in Eli’s hands, charred and cracked in Romance’s, a shimmer bloomed across the surface. Rippling like moonlight on water, it shifted, warped, and then cleared into an image.

A face.

Eli’s.

Romance’s breath hitched.

And in the fancy mirrored dance studio, hunched beside the girls with trembling fingers and wild eyes, Eli saw him too. Her own reflection disappeared from the CD’s surface as it transformed into a living, glowing window, and there he was. Dark, weary, beautiful. Alive.

Her breath caught. Her throat closed around the rising wave of emotion.

“…Romance,” she whispered, tears stinging.

His mouth parted like he was going to speak. But nothing came. Just the broken beginnings of a thousand words that couldn’t be said all at once. His eyes brimmed, lips trembling with the force of what he wanted to say but didn’t know how.

Eli’s chest ached. Her fingers hovered over the CD as if she could touch him. Her heart warred between joy and fury, relief and longing. Without thinking, she reached out, and Mira’s hand was there, steady, warm, grounding.

Mira’s own eyes were wide. “Is that…?” she breathed. Then louder, sharper: “Romance? Where are you? Are the others okay? What is that place?”

Romance closed his eyes with a sigh and turned the CD toward the boys, letting it catch the shimmer of their strange limbo.

“The others are right here,” he said gently.

He tilted the disc so the image showed them al, Abby standing tall with his arms folded, Mystery beside him with his usual elegant poise, and Baby already mid-gesture like he’d been talking when the camera turned.

Back in the studio, Zoey shrieked. “Mystery!” She snatched the CD from Eli, tears instantly pouring down her cheeks. “I’m so sorry for slashing you! I didn’t mean it! Can you forgive me?! Please, I’ve changed!”

Mystery didn’t answer. He just gave her a small, knowing smile, eyes soft with recognition behind the curtain of bangs.

“Oh my god I can’t believe he smiled at me, he forgave me, right?! That’s what that means!” Zoey sobbed to her friends.

Mira chuckled and gently tugged the CD from her grip, wiping at Zoey’s face with her sleeve. “Okay, emotional wreck, scoot.”

Then Mira held it out, and Rumi leaned forward, quiet now, reverent.

“Jinu?” she said, barely a whisper.

Romance didn’t even respond. He simply offered the CD toward Jinu, whose fingers hesitated… then closed around it.

As Jinu brought the image close, his lips parted, eyes fixed on the girl in front of him. Not the warrior from the bath-house. Not the half-demon from the fight. Just her.

“Hey,” he said, quietly.

Rumi swallowed around the lump in her throat, steadying her voice.

“How did you find each other?” she asked, eyes darting across the blurry CD image. “Is everyone… alright?”

Jinu’s expression softened. He turned the disc so the image shimmered, revealing the boys behind him more clearly, tired, but alive. Their figures were outlined in pale mist and soft light, a stark contrast to the fire-and-ash memory they’d all carried of the demon realm.

“We’re okay now,” he said. “The connection to Gwi-ma… it’s gone. All of us. Whatever that thing was, it’s not in our heads anymore. We’re not in the demon realm either. This place is… something else.” He looked up, and the others did too, their expressions thoughtful. “It’s misty here, endless. Cold sometimes. Still. But it’s not hell. It’s not… evil. Just quiet. Empty.” He paused. “Except for one thing.”

They all turned toward him in real time, surprised.

“What do you mean?” asked Rumi.

Jinu hesitated, then went on. “I haven’t told the others yet, but… I found ruins. Something buried beneath the mist. And it looks exactly like the venue.”

“The concert?” Zoey breathed.

“Yeah,” he nodded. “The old stage. The metal scaffolding. The big LED wings we never got to use. It’s all… here. Like a memory etched into the space itself.”

The boys blinked at him, startled.

“You serious?” muttered Baby. “Why didn’t you say anything?”

“I wasn’t sure what it meant,” Jinu said. “But now I am. The portal, whatever pulled me into this place, it opened during the concert, right? That’s where everything changed. If singing connects our worlds, connects us…” He turned the CD back to face the girls. “Then go there,” he said, eyes locked on Rumi’s. “Go back to the concert hall. Stand where we vanished. And sing.”

“Sing?” Mira echoed.

“As loud as you can. Together,” Jinu said. “We’ll find a way to echo back.”

There was a beat of stillness.

Then Eli, voice soft but firm: “We’ll do it.”

Zoey sniffled, “Yeah, we’ll blow the roof off that place if we have to.”

Rumi’s grip on the CD tightened. “We’ll bring you home.”

Abby took the CD next, his usual humor softened by something gentler.

“Mira,” he said, voice low. “I want to apologize. Gwi-ma’s control was strong… I couldn’t fight it. Not completely. But what we had…”

Mira cut in with a smirk, “You’re telling me all those rippling muscles weren’t strong enough to resist a literal demon lord? Weak.” Her smile faded a little. “But… yeah. I get it.”

Abby gave her a grateful nod, then turned toward the CD again. Mira leaned in, “Hey, Romance?”

Romance looked up, startled by the edge in her voice. Abby tilted the CD toward him.

“You better say something to Eli,” she said firmly. “She’s waited a long time for this. And if you break her heart again, I will kick your butt. You hear me? Apologize to her. Now.”

Eli’s fingers closed hesitantly around the edges of the CD as Mira passed it to her and Abby passed theirs to Romance. He stared at her reflection, his voice thick.

“Eli—I… I’m sorry. I was under Gwi-ma’s control, but that doesn’t excuse it. I should have tried harder. I should’ve contacted you. Anything.”

Eli’s breath hitched, her eyes welling up with tears. Mira rubbed slow circles between her shoulder blades, and Zoey’s hand found her other shoulder.

“A year, Romance,” Eli said, her voice trembling. “More than a year, almost two. With nothing. Do you even know what that felt like?”

Romance looked gutted, like the words cracked something inside him. Eli continued, blinking through tears.

“And I saw you…” She glanced at Mira. “I saw you die.”

His breath caught.

“Eli,” he whispered, “I want you back.”

She broke. “I just want you back…”

Romance pressed the CD to his heart, as if trying to close the distance. “Then I’ll come back,” he said, voice rough. “And I’ll make up for every lonely night. Every sad moment. I promise.”

He looked past Eli, to Mira in the reflection. “Take care of her.”

Mira nodded, folding Eli into her arms. “I will.”

Rumi leaned in again, eyes full of sympathy, taking the CD in both hands, steady and sure. Then her gaze sharpened,

“Jinu,” she said, “There’s another concert happening at the arena. The Idol Awards. We’re going to be performing there.”

Jinu’s eyes narrowed slightly with focus, then lit with resolve.

“Then we’ll be ready.”

Chapter Text

Eli wished she could keep the mirror connected forever. Just leave it on, like a portal between two worlds held open by sheer will and longing. But her energy was starting to fray, the spell unraveling at the seams.

“We’ll talk again soon,” she promised, her voice soft.

All four girls leaned into the reflection, crowding shoulder to shoulder and waving. On the other side, the boys did the same, Romance’s hand pressed to the screen, Abby blowing kisses, Baby throwing up finger hearts, Mystery giving a solemn little salute. Jinu smiled, a soft thing. The connection shimmered-

And snapped.

The CD went dark, then was just a regular CD again, the girl’s own holographic reflection shining back at them.

Eli let out a breath she didn’t know she was holding and practically collapsed against Mira, her whole body sagging with equal parts joy and overwhelm.

Zoey was the first to speak. “You okay?”

Eli blinked, eyes glassy. “I think so,” she said, breath catching on a laugh. “I mean… ‘okay’ is one word I could use.”

Zoey gave her a warm grin, nudging her shoulder.

Rumi leaned forward on her knees, patting her shoulder and offering gently, “We can go back to our place. You can rest. Regroup.”

But Mira tilted her head toward the door. “Unless you’d rather go home? I can drive you.”

Eli hesitated, then shook her head. “I… I don’t want to be alone right now.”

“Yes!” Zoey chirped. “A sleepover with a witch? How fun!”

“I’ve had enough witchy ghost stuff for one night,” Rumi said dryly, holding up a hand like she could ward off any more supernatural activity with sass alone.

Then Zoey and Mira exchanged a look.

Then, in perfect chaotic harmony, they started chanting:

“Couch! Couch! Couch! Couch!”

Rumi rolled her eyes but couldn’t stop smiling. “Fine,” she said, “but someone else is making the popcorn.”

***

The luxury apartment was nicer than anything Eli had ever seen in her life. No peeling paint. No water stains on the ceiling. No ominous bug corpses in the corners. The floors gleamed. The air even smelled expensive, like vanilla and fresh laundry with a hint of whatever perfume Mira wore.

She froze at the threshold, wide-eyed, just inside the doorway, while the others breezed in like it was the most natural thing in the world. Shoes kicked off. Jackets shrugged down. Bags dropped.

“I’m so ready for a bath,” Mira groaned, stretching her arms up.

“Me too,” Zoey agreed, toeing off her boots. “Also? Starving.”

Eli was still standing, rigid, clutching her bag like a shield.

Mira was halfway down into the main room with the big rounded white couch before she paused and glanced back. “Hey… you good?”

Eli jolted like she’d been caught somewhere she didn’t belong. “Uh, yeah! Yeah. It’s just… I don’t think I can afford to breathe in here.” She gave a weak laugh. “Is it really okay that I’m here?”

Mira’s expression softened immediately. She padded back across the hardwood and took Eli gently by the wrist, pulling her inside past the invisible threshold of hesitation.

“Yeah, of course it is,” she said. “You’re our special guest.”

Eli smiled despite herself, heart stuttering a little, not just from Mira’s words, but the touch. The warmth. The casual way Mira included her, like it had never been a question.

First order of business? Baths.

***

The bathroom steamed like a sauna as the massive tub filled, bubbles climbing higher and higher as Zoey dumped in far too much peach-scented soak. “Oops,” she giggled, watching the foam threaten to spill over.

“This is luxury,” she declared, tossing her top onto the counter. “I’m never leaving.”

“Who even needs a hot spring,” Mira added, already tying her hair up in a messy bun. “This tub could fit six.”

“Don’t tempt me,” said Rumi, leaning against the doorway, arms crossed, already in her robe. “If I get in there, I’m not coming out until next week.”

Eli stood awkwardly near the wall, still fully clothed, watching the other girls with a mix of awe and panic. Mira caught the look and tilted her head.

“You don’t have to,” she said gently, “but if you want to…there’s a clean robe on the hook and we’ve got plenty of everything.”

Zoey, now wrapped in a towel, peeked around from the mirror where she was attempting to stick under-eye patches beneath her lashes. “Girl, you helped us talk to ghost boys. You’ve earned this soak.”

Eli flushed, but nodded. “Okay. Um. Yeah. Gimme a sec."

Ten minutes later, four girls were in the oversized tub, bubbles piled high, steam softening every surface and the smell of essential oils wrapping around them like a charm. Zoey leaned back with cucumber slices over her eyes.

Mira had one leg propped up on the edge, slowly shaving it with laser focus. Rumi, ever cool, simply soaked, a towel folded neatly under her head like a queen on retreat.

Eli was red-cheeked and submerged to the collarbone, clinging to a rubber duck.

“I haven’t been this clean since... ever,” she whispered.

Zoey peeled off one cucumber slice to peek. “You look radiant. Post-seance glow up?”

Mira snorted. “She does look good. Look at that skin.”

“Witchcraft,” murmured Rumi.

Eli splashed water at them, hiding her smile behind her duck. It was chaotic. It was warm. It was girlish friendship at its best.

And when they finally emerged, cheeks pink, hair damp, robes cinched , they were glowing. Mira fluffed Eli’s hair with a towel. “You survived bath time. You’re officially one of us now.”

“Wait until she sees the snack spread,” said Zoey with glee, already bolting barefoot toward the kitchen.

The kitchen counter was an explosion of colors, textures, and wrappers. Shrimp chips crinkled open with a satisfying pop, followed by stacks of rice crackers, boxes of neatly cut sushi rolls, cups of steaming instant ramyeon, and a whole tray of pastel-colored mochi that Zoey had dramatically insisted on arranging by color.

"Where did you even get all this?" Eli asked, wide-eyed, watching Mira slice open a plastic container of seasoned eggs with practiced efficiency.

"Fan gifts, leftover greenroom treats, late-night cravings…" Mira shrugged. “We kind of hoard snacks like dragons.”

“I am a dragon,” Zoey said, stuffing a mochi into her mouth whole.

Eli’s stomach growled audibly, betraying her awe. She blushed.

“You good?” Rumi asked, arching an elegant brow.

Eli nodded shyly. “I’ve just… never seen so many amazing snacks at once that I was actually allowed to eat.”

That earned a quiet glance between the girls, but Zoey saved it by raising both arms and yelling, “COUCH! COUCH! COUCH!”

Rumi rolled her eyes but followed, arms full of snack bags.

“Couch!” Mira echoed, grabbing the tray of food. “Let’s go!”

In seconds they were all nestled onto the massive, overstuffed couch, Zoey tossing herself into the corner, Rumi crossing her legs neatly on one end, Mira pulling Eli down between them. The plush cushions hugged them as the girls leaned in, snacks balanced on a giant shared tray, the scent of savory noodles and sweet rice floating through the air.

Eli sat there, sandwiched between Mira’s thigh and Zoey’s shoulder, barely breathing as she took it all in: the warm food in her lap, the soft laughter around her, the soft static of a K-drama playing faintly from the mounted TV, and the way the skyline of Seoul glittered through the giant floor-to-ceiling windows, the lights like stars that had fallen just close enough to touch.

She let herself smile. Just a little.

She took a bite of mochi. Strawberry. Sweet and soft.

Mira passed her a drink without a word, and Zoey rested her head on Eli’s shoulder with a dramatic sigh.

"Best night ever," Zoey mumbled around her sushi.

Eli believed her.

***

The snacks were half-eaten now, mochi wrappers and empty ramyeon cups spread like confetti across the coffee table. The girls had dimmed the lights, letting only the city glow spill in through the windows as they lounged, full and sleepy, wrapped in fluffy robes and soft blankets.

Zoey was already dozing lightly against a pillow, one hand still holding a half-finished shrimp chip. Rumi sat upright on the rug, cross-legged, picking at her sushi tray while Mira tucked a throw over Zoey’s legs.

Eli leaned back into the couch, cradling a warm drink in her hands. She hadn’t said anything in a while. None of them had.

Until Rumi quietly said, “I loved him, you know.”

Eli blinked and turned her head. Mira froze a little, her fingers stilling against the edge of the blanket.

“Jinu?” Eli asked, voice gentle.

Rumi nodded. “Back then, when it all ended… I didn’t get to say it. I thought I had more time. I thought I could save him, pull him out of that world. But he made the choice for me. For us. And I get it now. I do.” Her fingers tightened around the edge of her tray. “But sometimes I wonder what would’ve happened if I’d jumped through the fire after him.”

“You’d be trapped, too, and all those people would have had their souls consumed by Gwi-ma.” Mira said, not unkindly.

“Maybe. But I wouldn’t be wondering every day if I could’ve done more.”

They sat with that for a moment. Then Mira sighed and rubbed at her temple. “I still remember the way Abby looked at me, even when I ran him through. There was recognition. Pain. Maybe even forgiveness. I think deep down, I didn’t want to do it, but they were trying to kill us. It was them or us.”

“They weren’t in control,” said Eli softly.

“No,” Mira agreed, “but neither were we. Not really. We were acting on prejudice and principal, we didn't know there was any nuance to demons.”

There was another silence, but this one felt shared. A moment of grief being passed between hands, so none of them had to hold it alone.

Eli hugged the pillow on her lap. “Romance… I was so angry. I thought he forgot me. Like I didn’t matter. But hearing that it was Gwi-ma, that something made him forget…” her voice cracked just slightly. “It hurts less now. I’m not as mad anymore. Just… sad."

Mira looked at her with something soft in her eyes, something rare. “You’re allowed to be both, you know.”

Eli nodded slowly, blinking fast.

“We’ll bring them back,” said Rumi, with quiet fire.

Eli looked at her.

“Whatever realm that is, wherever they are, it doesn’t matter. Music brought them to us. Music can bring them back.”

Mira leaned forward. “You think the concert could do it?”

“It has to,” Rumi said. “It’s the same venue. It’s fate."

There was a pause. Then Zoey, barely awake, mumbled from under her blanket, “What’s that one lyric… from heart dot wav?”

“The chorus?” Rumi asked.

“Yeah. That one.” Zoey yawned.

Eli straightened, setting her drink aside. “I think it goes…”

And gently, she began to sing, the lyrics coming to her more easily now as if flowing out of the aether.

“We were more than a memory, more than a dream…”

Mira hummed the harmony before she even realized it, and Rumi joined in by the third line

Their voices rose together, quiet and rough around the edges, but real.

In the corner of the couch, Zoey whispered, “Still the same…”

And the four of them kept singing into the quiet, the city light kissing their faces.

It was only the beginning.

Chapter Text

The path ahead cracked under their feet, slick with mist, each breath carrying the strange taste of memory and magic. It was quiet, but not dead. Something was shifting here. Something waiting.

Romance walked a little ahead of the others, his coat pulled tight around him, one hand ghosting over the pocket that held the charred CD. The last remnants of Eli’s voice still echoed in his mind. Her tears. The look on her face when she said she’d seen him die.

Beside him, Abby matched his stride easily, arms loose at his sides, muscle shifting under his oversized hoodie. “You doing that thing again?”

Romance blinked. “What thing?”

Abby nudged him with an elbow. “That thing where you blame yourself for everything and then stew about it until you explode or write a ballad.”

“Guess I deserve that.”

“You do. But also, not really,” Abby said, glancing at him. “You didn’t ask to be possessed by a demon lord.”

“I kinda did,” He said, remembering that hot day in the studio when Jinu had first appeared to them.

A few steps behind them, Jinu stayed quiet. He didn’t walk in the center, never did. He kept to the side, as if afraid to take up too much space. He hadn’t said much since the call. Romance could feel the weight of his silence pressing on all of them.

Romance sighed. “Still. Doesn’t make what I did okay.”

“No,” Jinu said softly. His voice made them all glance back. “And I’m sorry, about all of it…But it’s not about what we did. It’s about what we do next.”

They fell into a silence, not tense, just thoughtful. Healing.

“Damn, he speaks,” Baby muttered, then added under his breath, “Poetically, even. Someone write that down.”

Mystery smirked. “Too late, already composing the background strings.”

Abby shot a thumb over his shoulder. “See? We’re all still ourselves. Mostly. Some of us just come with extra angst now.”

Romance let out a quiet laugh, then looked at Jinu. “Hey… thanks. For talking to her. For telling me.”

Jinu nodded, hands buried in his coat sleeves. “She never gave up on you. None of us will either.”

The quiet hit again, but now it was warmer.

“Okay but, like…” Baby waved a hand dramatically. “Do we need to cry about it or can we go back to pretending none of us have feelings?”

“I don’t have feelings,” Mystery said casually. “I’m just an AI projection created for fanservice and marketing.”

Abby rolled his eyes. “You're all idiots.”

“And yet,” Baby pointed out, “you’d die for us.”

“I’d die louder,” Mystery added.

They were laughing again. Even Jinu smiled, wide enough for Romance to catch it and feel a little lighter.

Then Abby slung an arm across Jinu’s shoulders like it had always been there. “Look at us. Dysfunctional disaster boys, united by trauma, glitter, and unresolved romantic entanglements.”

“I missed this,” Jinu admitted, just loud enough for them to hear.

Romance slowed his steps. “Do you guys think… we’ll make it back? For real?”

“Hell yes,” said Abby without hesitation.

“Yeah,” Baby echoed. “Mystery still owes me five bucks.”

Mystery frowned. “You’re not gonna let me off the hook? We died bro, let it go.”

“And,” Abby added as Baby opened his mouth to retort, “we’ve got something we didn’t have before.”

“What’s that?” Jinu asked.

“Hope,” Abby said, squeezing Jinu’s shoulder. “And Eli. Mira. The girls. They’re out there. They believe in us.”

Then Baby looked up into the mist. “Soooo… anyone know how much further we gotta walk before we find these ruins?”

All eyes turned to Jinu.

He shrugged. “Hard to say. There’s no sun, no stars. No road signs that say, ‘Welcome to Ruinville.’ Could be around the next bend. Could be miles.”

Mystery made a face. “So… we’re just guessing?”

“Welcome to the afterlife,” muttered Romance, adjusting his coat.

“Well,” Abby said, cracking his knuckles, “if we’re not gonna get there tonight, I say we rest.”

“Finally!” Baby groaned. “My feet are gonna sue me for emotional damages.”

Romance chuckled. “You haven’t changed at all.”

“Yeah, well, neither have you. Still dramatic. Still a pretty boy. Still making bad decisions.”

Mystery looked around the flat gray terrain. There was a strange tree stump, more stone than wood, and a patch of smooth ground that didn’t crack when you stepped on it. He nodded. “Good enough for a camp. I’ll start setting up whatever imaginary camp things we have.”

“What, like ghost marshmallows and cursed sleeping bags?” Baby asked.

“Exactly.”

Before long, they’d tossed their jackets down, made a circle, and pretended it was a real campfire instead of an ambient glow from some nearby magic fog-fissure. The boys slouched, stretched out, complained, and eventually relaxed.

Then Baby’s stomach growled. Loudly.

He sat up, scowling. “This is hell. This is actual hell.”

Mystery cracked an eye open. “We don’t need food here, you know.”

“That doesn’t mean I don’t want it,” Baby snapped, hands on his belly. “I want chips. I want noodles. I want a thousand fried dumplings with extra dipping sauce and a boba tea the size of my head.”

“Boba tea?” Abby raised a brow.

“Don’t judge my grief!”

Mystery leaned back, arms behind his head. “He’s got posthumous cravings.”

“I died with an empty stomach,” Baby grumbled. “You think I’m not gonna be haunted by that?”

Mystery grinned. “Boo.”

“RAHHH—” Baby leapt at him and the two went sprawling with a thud, limbs flailing, Mystery laughing like a villain and Baby howling something about revenge snacks. Jinu ducked out of the way as Mystery nearly kicked his leg, barking with mock ferocity.

Abby didn’t move. He just watched with one brow raised.

“They’re gonna be at that for a while,” he muttered to Romance.

“Should we stop them?”

“Nah.”

They watched as Baby somehow managed to sit on Mystery’s back, both of them shouting over each other, all while pretending to claw through invisible snack bags.

“You’d think being dead would calm them down,” Romance muttered.

Abby leaned in slightly, a sly edge to his voice. “And you? You calmed down?”

Romance looked at him, really looked, and that tension curled low between them again. Something familiar. Something still aching.

“I don’t know,” he said softly.

Abby smiled, warm and bold and unapologetic. “I think I like you better when you’re not.”

And then, as if he were simply shifting his weight, Abby leaned in and pressed a soft, deliberate kiss to the corner of Romance’s mouth.

Romance turned slightly at the last second, half instinct, half curiosity, and their lips met more than they missed.

Their eyes met in the hush that followed.

Abby grinned. “Oops.”

Romance blinked. “That wasn’t an accident.”

“Nope.”

“Are we gonna talk about it?”

“Not if I can help it.”

Romance gave a half-smile, barely-there and wrecked with fondness.

Across the circle, Baby shrieked, “WHY ARE THERE NO SNACKS IN THE AFTERLIFE?!”

“Because you didn’t bring any!” Mystery shouted back.

Jinu just chuckled softly, watching them all with a quiet, glowing peace.

For the first time since dying, it felt like they were a band again.

Almost.

***

Later, after the mock battle had burned off enough restlessness, the boys settled back into a comfortable sprawl around their makeshift “camp.” The mist hadn’t lifted, but something about the silence felt less oppressive now, softer, maybe. Like it was listening.

They were all quiet for a while. No one said it, but they were each thinking about the girls. About the moment the CD lit up, the warmth in their voices, the thread of connection that now pulsed like a second heartbeat.
Jinu was the one who broke the silence.

“That song…” he said, his voice soft as he looked at the horizonless dark, “the one that brought us back together. That helped us see them. I want to learn it. I want to sing it.”

Baby perked up. “Hell yeah, you do.”

“It’s kind of a banger,” Abby added with a grin. “Would’ve charted and broken every realm barrier.”

“I’ve only heard it in pieces,” Jinu said. “Bits from Eli, bits from you guys. Teach me the whole thing?”

Romance glanced at the others, then nodded. “Yeah. Let’s start from the top.”

He began humming first, low and steady, the opening chords that had become a memory, a longing, a lifeline.

Abby added harmony, smooth and easy, like it was second nature. Mystery followed suit, drumming the rhythm against his thigh.

Baby, sprawled back with his head on his arms, started whispering lyrics, then singing under his breath. Captivating them all with the brand-new rap verse

Jinu closed his eyes and listened, catching the shape of the melody, the words, the ache tucked between syllables. He began to hum along, tentative, then more certain.

Romance looked at him. “You’ve still got it.”

Jinu cracked a small smile. “You’re damn right I do.”

They sang together, haltingly at first, then stronger, the sound echoing outward like ripples on water. But just as the final line of the known chorus fell away, they all paused. Silence again.

“We need the next verse,” said Mystery, already sitting up straighter. “We’re not done.”

“No,” Romance said. “We’re just getting started.”

Jinu frowned, “I think I’ve got it, after Abby’s line, ’Still fighting through the dark-don’t go anywhere.’ Let’s change up the chorus again.” He sang:

“We were more than a memory, more than a dream
Running out of time in a world split at the seams
But I believe, even if it breaks
If you hold on tight, don’t let it fade
I’m still the same, Oh~

What happened next, it was once again as if the song had always been. Natural and without hesitation the other members all sang lines, each one climbing, pulling the melody up into a key shift, soaring over each other, ascending to the final chorus that they all ad-libbed on the spot.

• Abby: If I could reach across the sky, I’d pull you through the dark
• Mystery: Piece by piece, we’re finding light inside these shattered hearts
• Baby: You knew me once, don’t let that fade
• Romance: I’m still the boy you knew, just lost along the way!

All: We were more than a memory, more than a dream
Still alive in the silence, torn at the seams
Call out my name, even if it fades-
On me, you can lean
I’m still the same, still the same-
Still the same, ohhhh~
more than a memory, more than a dream

Jinu: 나를 잊지 마, (Nareul-itji-ma, baby/Don’t forget me baby) torn at the seams

All: I’m so ashamed, even if it fades,
(정말 미안해 jeongmal mianhae/ I’m so sorry), I’m still the same, still the same,
please forgive me

The note faded out, the others all looked at each other breathless, but Romance finished it out, his voice light, like feathers falling on softly onto concrete.

Romance: Even now… 사랑해, (I love you). I’ll sing for you… 다시 만날 때까지. (da-shi man-nal ttae-kka-ji) (…until we meet again)”

Baby was already scribbling the lyrics onto his arm, adding to the smudged ones he’d written earlier.

Abby threw his arms into the air. “Guys, we just wrote another song!”

“You think we’re gonna perform this at the awards?” Mystery asked, already grinning.

“If this even works,” Baby said with a shrug.

“Think we’ll win?” Abby asked.

“No,” Jinu said, deadpan. “We’re disqualified. Reason? Dead.”

Romance laughed. “The fans don’t know that we really died.”

“Yeah, we still aren’t gonna win,” Mystery added. “Doesn’t matter. We’ll be alive again... I think.”

Romance smirked. “We’ll win something. Their hearts.”

Jinu smiled. “Yeah, and for the right reasons this time.”

Baby plopped onto his back, arms flung wide across the stone. “Okay. That was a lot. Somebody hold me.”

Mystery flopped down beside him dramatically, head on his stomach. “You’re such a diva.”

“No, I’m baby,” Baby muttered, eyes closed, a soft smile playing on his lips.

Abby sat cross-legged, arms draped over his knees, humming the chorus under his breath. He looked up at the faint light in the misty sky and sighed. “It’s not home…but this feels close.”

Jinu smiled, leaning back on his hands. “Maybe because we’re all here, together.”

Romance stood a little apart from them, looking down at the cracked CD in his hand. Then he turned back toward the others and walked over, sitting between Abby and Jinu. He didn’t say anything, just rested his arms around their shoulders and exhaled.

For a long moment, none of them spoke. Just breathed. Together. Still.

Still the same.

Still a family.

Chapter Text

The flat was quiet for once, just soft shuffling and the hiss of a kettle. Mira padded into the kitchen in one of the apartment’s many fluffy robes, hair tousled from sleep, and spotted Eli at the counter, flipping through sketches on her drawing tablet (it was always in her bag), stylus in her fingers, while waiting on the water to boil.

Eli didn’t notice her at first. She was too busy shading the folds on a jacket design, oversized sleeves, pointed collar, a sharp asymmetrical silhouette inspired by Mira’s usual stagewear. Her fingers moved fast, practiced, until Mira leaned over her shoulder.

“Is that me?”

Eli jumped. “Wh-uh, kind of? Sorry, I wasn’t-”

Mira grinned and snatched the tablet from her. “Girl, what is this?!”

“They’re just designs, I mean-my major was fashion design, but I haven’t... really done anything with it. The ramen shop kind of eats my life.”

Mira’s eyes were already sparkling. “These are insane. No, like, next level. You have to show Bobby.”

“Bobby?” Eli blinked. “Like… your manager Bobby?”

“Yeah.” Mira was already taking pictures. “He’s been freaking out about what we’re wearing for the Idol Awards. He wants custom stuff but doesn’t want to outsource. These are perfect.”

“I didn’t mean to-”

“Too late!” Mira was already texting. “Prepare to be discovered.”

The doorbell suddenly rang about twenty times.

Mira blinked. “Huh. That was fast.”

“What was fast?”

Before Eli could even finish the question, Zoey went to open the door, still rubbing her eyes and nearly got knocked over by a whirlwind in a designer scarf and sunglasses.

“Where is this legend, this genius, this benevolent goddess called Eli?!”

Eli raised a timid hand from the couch.

“Genius!” Bobby cried, already across the room. “Hi, I’m Bobby, Huntrix’s manager-slash-miracle wrangler. You’re brilliant. This linework? This silhouette? Who trained you? What’s your sign? Do you work digitally? Do you sew? Can I see more?”

He barely took a breath.

“I-uh-cancer? Fashion degree? I mostly sketch—”

“Cancer?! Love that for us.” He was already flipping through the photos Mira sent, then whipped a leather folder from his bag and handed it to her. “Nondisclosure. Sign. This one’s your contract. Sign. Here’s your payment terms. Initial. Here’s a pen.”

“I-I haven’t-”

“Sweetheart, you’re designing Huntrix’s stage costumes. Idol Awards. National broadcast. I don’t have time to be humble.”

Still blinking, still holding the pen, Eli signed on reflex-then her phone buzzed. A deposit notification flashed on the screen.

₩4,000,000.00 received
[Sender: Huntrix Management] — Costume Design Deposit

She stared at it.

Then stared harder.

Then gasped, “This much?!”

She swayed on the spot, as if the weight of it hit all at once.

Zoey reached out to steady her with a giggle, “You okay?”

“I…” Eli looked around the room, dazed. “I guess I don’t work for the ramen shop anymore…” She covered her mouth. “I work for… Huntrix.” Her voice cracked, her eyes watering. She dropped back onto the couch, hands still shaking, breath caught in her chest. “I work for Huntrix.”

Mira grinned and dropped beside her, throwing an arm around her shoulder. “Damn right you do.”

Mira clapped her hands once. “Time for a glow up. For real this time.”

Montage time:

🎶 Cue upbeat K-pop track with fierce vocals and glittery synths 🎶

– Eli stands at the ramen shop register, apron still on, holding her phone. She blinks at the Huntrix deposit one last time… then calmly takes off the apron, folds it, and hands it to her stunned manager with a polite bow. She’s already halfway out the door before he can ask what’s happening.

– Fast cut: Eli shoves open the door of her rundown apartment one last time. Roaches scurry. A ceiling leak drips right into a mixing bowl. With a steely glare, she grabs her sketchbooks, her sewing machine, Romance’s ramen-cup orchid-and walks away without looking back.

– Hard transition to her new apartment: The door swings open to reveal sleek wood floors, huge windows, a balcony view of Seoul, and a sunlit studio space already stocked with thread racks, mannequins, bolts of fabric, and a pink neon sign that reads “SEW EXTRA”.

– Eli wheels around the room, spinning in her socks, touching everything in disbelief. Her eyes sparkle. Her heart soars.

– She sketches late into the night: Mira’s look, fierce and vampy. Zoey’s, bubbly with bold glitter. Rumi’s, regal with a slash of fire. Pins in her mouth, coffee at her elbow, thread everywhere.

– Cue makeshift runway in the rehearsal studio: The girls pose and strut in some new designs (not the ones for the concert). Mira throws a jacket over her shoulder and flips her hair. Zoey spins with sparkles flying off her skirt. Rumi’s slow saunter could kill a man.

– Bobby lounges nearby in a feathered boa and oversized sunglasses, sipping bubble tea. “Ten out of ten,” he says. “No notes. Except maybe… add feathers.”

– The girls fall apart laughing. Zoey flaps her arms like a chicken.

– Eli grins from behind the sewing machine, heart full, face flushed with pride.

🎶 Music slows, softens into a dreamy bridge 🎶

– She looks out her new window, Seoul glowing like a galaxy beyond the glass. Her fingertips brush the CD still hanging by a ribbon on her mirror frame.

– Her reflection looks back… and this time, she smiles.

***

It was late.

The hum of the city beyond Eli’s window had softened into a lullaby of distant traffic and occasional birdsong. Her apartment was lit only by the golden glow of her standing lamp, casting long shadows across bolts of sequined fabric strewn like spilled stardust.

Mira stood in the center of the room on a low pedestal, dressed in a sleek form-fitting base layer. The unfinished outfit shimmered across her shoulders and hips, silver and violet glitter dancing in the light like a galaxy being stitched into shape.

Eli was kneeling, tape measure in one hand, pins between her lips. Her eyes were focused, hands brushing lightly along Mira’s side as she checked the drape of the fabric.

“You’ve got the hands of a witch,” Mira murmured.

Eli glanced up, startled, removing the pins from her mouth. “That a compliment?”

Mira’s lips curved. “Definitely. Dangerous. Magical. Deadly precise.”

Eli’s breath caught in her throat. The tape measure slipped. Mira reached down instinctively, and their hands collided. Warmth. Pause. Both girls froze. Their eyes met, Mira's smoldering and half-lidded, Eli's wide with surprise and something far deeper blooming behind them.

“You’re really good at this,” Mira said softly.

“Thanks,” Eli whispered. Her hands didn’t move.

Neither did Mira’s.

The moment stretched between them like pulled thread, tense, delicate, shimmering.

Eli stood slowly. Mira didn’t step back. The height difference was enough to tilt Eli’s chin upward, her lips parted just slightly. Mira’s gaze dropped, mouth to neck to collarbone to lips again. The space between them narrowed.

Eli’s hand rose, bit of glitter from Mira's cheek. Mira leaned into the touch, just slightly. They leaned in, caught in the moment. The air almost shimmering with something. Then—

BZZZT. Eli’s phone buzzed on the table, loud in the silence.

They both startled. Mira stepped back, rubbing her neck with a sheepish grin. Eli stumbled for the table like her life depended on it.

“Um-gotta check that,” she stammered.

“Right,” Mira said, eyes still on her. “Bobby?”

Eli cleared her throat, tapping at her phone even though she hadn’t registered a single word on the screen. “Uh. Spam text. Apparently I’m eligible for ten million won if I just click this very suspicious link.”

Mira let out a soft laugh, still standing on the pedestal, arms crossed. “Is that how you’re funding all this? Scam bait and dreams?”

“Shhh,” Eli said, grinning as she turned back. “Don’t question the magic.”

“Oh, I’d never question a witch,” Mira teased, stepping carefully down. “You might hex me into wearing shoulder pads again.”

Eli gasped in mock offense. “You said you liked the shoulder pads!”

“I lied. I feared for my life.”

“Good,” Eli said, smirking. “That means the enchantments are working.”

Mira moved to the mirror, admiring the half-finished outfit on her frame. “You know, I’m not used to seeing myself like this.”

“Like what?” Eli asked, genuinely curious.

“Like a star,” Mira said softly, then turned to meet her incredulous look, with a wink. “But maybe that’s just the way you look at me.”

Eli’s brain short-circuited for half a second. She opened her mouth, then closed it. Her fingers curled slightly at her sides. Her heart pounded in her ears.

Mira stepped closer. Not in a big, dramatic way. Just a small, slow shift of weight. But it closed the space between them like something inevitable. Her gaze was steady. Searching.

And Eli didn’t move. She couldn’t. Not when Mira was looking at her like that. Not when Mira’s perfume, spiced vanilla and something warmer, like candlelight and mischief, hit her all at once. Not when her hands, still covered in a bit of gold glitter from the fabric, lifted gently to tuck a stray strand of Eli’s hair behind her ear.

“You keep looking at me like I’m some kind of miracle,” Mira whispered. “You ever think you might be one too?”

That did it.

Eli surged forward and Mira met her halfway.

The kiss was soft, nervous, breathless, but unmistakably real. It landed like a promise, like something long delayed finally slipping into place. Mira’s hands cradled Eli’s face; Eli’s fingers curled into the sides of Mira’s jacket like she didn’t want to let go.

They pulled apart slowly, foreheads resting together, breath mingling.

“Wow,” Eli whispered.

Mira grinned. “I was gonna say the same thing.”

Silence stretched, not awkward but glowing.

Then Eli blinked. “So… still hate the shoulder pads?”

Mira snorted, bumping her head gently against Eli’s. “They’re growing on me.”

Later, the two of them sat on the apartment’s wide balcony, shoulder to shoulder sipping icy sodas from glass bottles as the Seoul skyline shimmered like a constellation brought to Earth. The warmth of the kiss still lingered between them, not awkward or heavy, but present, like something precious they both now held.

Mira leaned back against the railing, one knee drawn up lazily. “So… when we get them back,” she said, swirling her drink, “what do you think he’s gonna do? Romance, I mean. When he sees us together?”

Eli blinked at the question, then flushed slightly. “You mean us… us?”

Mira grinned sideways. “I mean, yeah. I’m not gonna pretend I don’t want this, want you. But I also know this thing doesn’t erase what you had with him.”

Eli let out a long breath and rested her bottle against her knee. “I guess I keep wondering that too. If we’re all being honest, we’ve always been open to other partners, and I’ve seen how he used to look at Abby- the way he looked at you during that signing event, I have no clue how he’s going to react. But...” She looked down at the bubbles fizzing in her soda. “I think it’ll be okay, I think…I think he’ll be glad.”

Mira smiled thoughtfully, gaze drifting toward the skyline. “Abby’s gonna love you. I mean, I don’t know if there’ll be a spark there or not, but either way, he’ll adore you. He’s like… the heart-shaped tank of the group.”
Eli snorted, grinning. “Heart-shaped tank? Oh, I know.”

“I said what I said,” Mira replied, bumping her shoulder against Eli’s. “What about the others? You ever meet Baby? Mystery? Jinu?”

Eli nodded slowly. “Just once or twice. Once as ‘just a friend’ at a ramen shop, and this other time I was able to get backstage when Romance snuck me in through a service door. I saw them all passing through, doing their chaos-boyband thing. But I didn’t talk to them. I don’t think they even noticed me.”

Mira’s gaze softened. “And Romance? How did you two even meet? You never really said.”

Eli’s smile turned nostalgic. “We met in a record shop. He was disguised, of course, hood up, sunglasses on like he thought he was sneaky. I was in the K-alt section, and we both reached for the same obscure indie vinyl. He let me have it, but then asked me out five minutes later while pretending to browse jazz.”

Mira laughed. “That is so him.”

“We kept it quiet,” Eli said. “He’d sneak over after practice, stay the night, bring me flowers. I think he liked that I didn’t treat him like an idol. I mean, I was starstruck at first, even though they hadn’t even debuted yet, but I didn’t want anything from him but him.”

“You loved him,” Mira said gently.

Eli nodded. “I still do. I just… also kinda love you?”

Mira turned to her, eyes shining with something a little awed and a little wicked. “Good. Because I’m keeping you.”

They clinked their soda bottles together, laughter and starlight between them.

Chapter Text

The fog was thinner today, washed in pearly light, like the sky itself was holding its breath. The five of them walked in loose formation, boots crunching over ground that wasn’t quite earth and wasn’t quite dream.

“Okay, but if we get to come back,” Mystery was saying, “first thing I’m doing is opening a hotpot restaurant-slash-vinyl bar. ‘Mystery Meat & Beats.’”

“No one’s eating at that,” Baby replied, making a face. “Also, I want ten percent of your profits for enduring that name.”

Jinu laughed. “I’d eat there. But only if you let me make those crispy dumplings.”

“Wait, you cook?” Abby raised an eyebrow.

“Of course,” Jinu replied coolly. “I’m four hundred years old, I might have learned something in that time.”

That earned a round of snorts, and Romance let out a low chuckle beside Abby. He grinned and laced his fingers through the other’s, their hands swinging lightly between them as they walked. It felt natural, like rediscovering the right chord after fumbling it for years.

They’d been singing off and on again during their walk, harmonizing the verses they’d practiced and trading new lines as the song evolved with every step. It felt like a spell, like each note layered a little more color back into the grey.

Then Romance slowed. “Wait.”

They all stopped.

Ahead, through the thinning mist, a shape rose from the nothing. Angular. Massive. Like jagged teeth half-buried in the earth. They moved closer in silence.

The ruins loomed before them, cracked stone, twisted scaffolding, a collapsed screen frozen mid-animation. And the unmistakable curvature of a concert dome.

Jinu’s breath caught. “That’s it,” he whispered. “That’s where we died...or a copy of it.”

The stadium. The very place they’d performed their last song. Where it had all unraveled. But now it stood like a monument to memory, broken but intact, half-swallowed by fog and time.

Romance released Abby’s hand and stepped forward, wind tugging at his coat. “It’s really here.”

“Barely,” Baby murmured.

“No,” Jinu said, voice firm. “It means something. This place… it’s an anchor. A bridge.”

Mystery pressed a hand against the stadium wall, its texture gritty and familiar beneath his fingers. “Then this is where we wait for rescue?” The others nodded.

And as if on cue, Romance sang softly, a line from their newest song, half-prayer, half-promise.

“We were more than a memory, more than a dream…”

The others joined in, their voices rising like ghosts of sound echoing against the bones of what had been.

They had found it.

Now all they needed… was to be found.

***

The venue hadn't reacted to their song just then, so they scouted every corridor, every shattered stairwell, and empty dressing room. The echo of their past lives lingered in shapes they recognized: the backstage hallway where Mystery rehearsed his footwork, the greenroom where Baby spilled iced coffee on Romance’s new boots, the dent in the wall where Abby had launched a water bottle in frustration before their last set when they had argued. But there was no sign of Gwi-Ma. No flames. No snarling rift. Just silence, and ruin, and the brittle smell of stone.

As dusk fell, or something like it, if time meant anything here, they made camp on the fractured stage beneath a hollow sky.

A flickering spotlight, half-functioning through some miracle, buzzed to life above them. Romance sat at the edge of the platform, legs dangling, his cracked CD held gently in his hands.

“So… how do we know when it’s time?” Baby asked, curled up on one of the flight cases.

“We don’t,” said Jinu, arms wrapped around his knees. “There’s no schedule. No prophecy. No warning.”

“We just… wait?” Mystery’s voice echoed faintly.

Romance gave a nod. “We trust them.”

“Then I call dibs on the bass amp if we’re sleeping here,” Baby added, standing and dragging a nearby garment bag to use as a pillow. “Good lumbar support.”

“Like you even know what lumbar means,” Mystery snorted.

“Means I’ll outlive all of you,” Baby said, flopping down dramatically.

As the group slowly settled, Abby remained standing a little ways off, arms folded, watching Romance in thoughtful silence. Finally, he walked over and sat beside him on the edge of the stage.

They didn’t speak at first.

Then Abby broke the quiet. “So. You and Eli.”

Romance blinked. “Yeah.”

“And… Mira.”

A pause.

Romance sighed. “Yeah.”

Abby smirked, not unkindly. “And me. That’s a lot of heart to carry.”

“I know.” Romance rubbed the back of his neck. “You know how I feel about you, but the girls? I didn’t mean for it to happen that way. With Mira, it just… started when I’d lost memory of Eli. I guess part of me needed something to hold onto.”

Abby nodded. “And now?”

“Now I don’t want to let go of either of them, even if Mira banished us here.”

Abby leaned back on his palms, eyes on the distant mist, his own admiration toward Mira showing. “They’re both fire. Strong. Loyal. And somehow, both still soft for you.” He glanced sideways. “How are you gonna handle that, if they’ll have you?”

Romance let out a slow breath. “I don’t know yet. I’ll be honest. I want to deserve both of them.”

“And if you don’t?”

Romance looked at him. “Then I’ll back off. I’ll respect what they want.”

There was a moment of silence before Abby grinned. “Good answer.”

Romance blinked. “Wait, was this a test?”

“Nah,” Abby said, rising with a stretch. “Just making sure you weren’t planning to be dumb about it. Mira’s… something special.”

Romance smiled faintly. “Yeah. So is Eli.”

Abby walked back toward the others, pausing briefly. “For what it’s worth,” he added, “I think they’re both lucky to have someone who actually gives a damn...and looks cute doing it.”

Romance smiled, warmed by the compliment, but sat there for a while longer, eyes on the horizon, his voice soft and sure.

“I just hope I get the chance to prove it.” His lips pressed together, he wondered what might bloom between the four of them when they got back…if they got back…if anything was to bloom at all. He sighed and looked at the sky.

A warmth suddenly spread through Romance’s chest, it tingled, subtle at first, then pulsing like a heartbeat. He blinked and slowly reached into the inner pocket of his coat. The cracked CD glowed faintly in his hand, light shimmering in its fractured surface. He held it up. On the other side of the reflection, mist and static gave way to a familiar, beautiful face.

“Eli…?”

Her eyes were already teary.

“Hey,” she said softly. Her voice cracked. “I wasn’t sure if it would work, I wanted to see you...”

He stared, breath catching. “It’s you.”

They were quiet for a second. A beat. A storm of things unsaid gathering behind both of their eyes.

Then Eli’s voice, sharp-edged from keeping too much in for too long. “You know, it’s been almost two years. I thought you ghosted me. I thought I wasn’t enough, or I imagined all of it.”

Romance swallowed, hard. “I know. I’m sorry. You didn’t imagine it. It was real. All of it.”

“Then why didn’t you come back?” Her lips trembled. “Why didn’t you fight harder?”

“I did fight,” he said, voice rough now. “But not hard enough. Gwi-Ma… he got inside everything. My head, my memories. He made me forget pieces of you. Sometimes I’d dream about your face, and then I’d wake up not knowing who you were. I didn’t know what was real anymore.”

Eli looked away, biting her lip.

Romance leaned closer to the glowing image. “But when I saw you again, at the concert? Right before Mira….” He trailed off, they both knew the moment he was referring to, “It came back. All of it. I remembered you. And losing you hit all over again.”

A tear slid down her cheek.

“I wanted to be mad,” she admitted, brushing it away. “I still kinda am. But I can’t help thinking it wasn’t really your fault. I don’t know what to feel.”

“I don’t either,” he said, and smiled faintly. “But I’ve missed you. More than I know how to explain.”

She laughed, small and watery. “You know, for someone called Romance, you still suck at talking about your feelings.”

“Not true,” he said, “I wrote like five songs about you. None of them rhyme though.”

Eli laughed through her tears. “Of course they don’t.”

They both softened.

Then Romance hesitated. “There’s something else. I… when I thought you were gone, Mira and I-”

“You don’t have to explain,” Eli said, voice calm now. “I know. She told me.”

He blinked. “She did?”

Eli nodded. “And… well. We sort of… had a moment too.”

Romance’s eyes widened slightly.

“It’s not what you think,” she added quickly. “I mean, it is what you think. But it’s not… complicated. Or messy. We talked about it. And we want to figure this out. All of us.”

His breath left him in a surprised huff. Then he smiled. Not a smirk. Not performance. Just something real and quiet.

“And me and Abby, we’re still…” he said.

Eli smiled, “That’s great, I’m glad you’ve had someone to support you through uh…being demonic and dead and all.”

He smiled again and glanced back to Abby, who was nearby, and gave him a smile.

“Guess I’m the luckiest guy in two realms.”

“Don’t push it,” she said, but her grin gave her away.

A silence settled, warm this time.

“Huntrix hired me,” she said, as if this was a normal phone call to her boyfriend across the city, and not to his spirit across the realms, “I get to put my degree to good use, I’m being paid, I live in a high rise now.” She chuckled, “But I still have your orchid, the one in the ramen cup?”

“You still have that?” He said, “I gave that to you for our anniversary like...three years ago? You mean it didn’t die in that cave we called an apartment?”

Eli giggled, “No, it didn’t, maybe it knew something we didn’t about perseverance.”

Romance chuckled too, almost sadly, “Yeah…maybe. I’m glad to hear and…I’m…proud of you.”

Eli’s eyes glossed with tears and she smiled, letting out a breath. He paused as a weight settled over them.

“I’m gonna come back,” he said softly. “And I’ll spend the rest of my life making it up to you.”

“We’ll see if you’re worth it,” she teased, but the tears swelled. “I hope you are.”

“I hope so too.”

Behind him, Abby sat cross-legged, watching the whole thing from a polite distance. When the light on the CD finally dimmed and the reflection faded, Romance just held it there, like something sacred.

Abby stood and wandered over, placing a firm hand on Romance’s back.

“She’s still in your corner,” he said. “I don’t think we’re done. You’re just getting started.”

Romance didn’t answer and leaned into him instead. But the soft look in his eyes, the way he held the cracked disc like a lifeline, said everything.

***

The boys lounged across the crumbling remains of the stage, the mist curling lazily at the edges of the stadium’s ghostly walls.

Jinu stood and dusted his hands on his thighs. “Look… if we do come back, and it happens to be in the middle of the Idol Awards, we’re going to need choreography.”

Mystery groaned dramatically. “Seriously? We’re haunting a dead venue in the ghost realm and you’re thinking about dance steps?”

Baby blinked up at him from where he was lying on the edge of the stage. “Wait, you wanna treat this like a legit performance? Dude, we don’t even know if the ritual’s gonna work.”

“Yeah,” said Mystery, throwing an arm up. “And if it does work, you wanna flop onto the stage like undead fish?”

Jinu crossed his arms. “Better to look good doing it.”

Abby, who’d been calmly doing push-ups nearby for no reason at all, sat up. “I’m with Jinu. If we’re summoned back to the human world mid-performance, we better perform.”

“Thank you,” said Jinu, nodding.

Romance sat forward from his perch on an overturned speaker. “I mean… we are idols.”

“Were,” Mystery corrected.

“Semantics,” Baby said with a shrug. “Okay, fine. But I’m not doing that one move where we all drop to the floor and pop up like springs. My ghost knees don’t bend like they used to.”

Abby smirked. “Ghost knees. Sounds like a great ballad title.”

“Oh, oh!” Baby clapped his hands. “Let’s name our comeback tour Phantom Groove.”

Everyone groaned.

“You’re lucky we love you,” muttered Mystery, standing.

“Alright, alright,” Jinu said, pulling off his coat and cracking his knuckles. “Let’s start from the top. The intro pose is still the same as Soda Pop, right?”

Abby nodded. “Unless someone wants to swap sides?”

“No,” Romance said, stepping forward. “I remember my spot. Let’s just get it right.”

And then, on a stage of broken marble and ghost-light, the boys moved into place. A low hum rose around them as they began to mark the choreography with muscle memory and old instincts, moving like they never stopped being Saja Boys.

Mystery counted them through it, Baby offered changes. “Jinu, you stand here for this part.”

They stumbled, tripped over each other, laughed, and then slowly, practicing again and again, singing their new song, they moved in sync. It felt good.

The mist curled tighter as if watching.

Even here, between life and death, the show was just beginning. And their markings? The ones that gave them all away as demons? Maybe they shone just a little lighter, less demonic purple and a little more the color of the light they shared together.

Chapter Text

The Idol Awards were less than a week away, and the apartment was humming with life.

Garment bags lined the hallway like prized relics, each one shimmering with rhinestones, velvet, or ethereal mesh. Inside, Eli adjusted the hem on Rumi’s outfit, stepping back to admire the sweep of the cape and the intricate embroidery glinting like constellations.

Rumi turned in the mirror, wide-eyed. “Eli… this is unreal. I look like a goddess about to accept a moonstone crown.”

“You look like someone who already owns the whole damn sky,” Mira said from the couch, blowing on her tea.

Zoey stepped out of her room in her own finished look, a sleek suit with glittering chains along the collar and sleeves, and let out a whistle when she saw Rumi. “If we don’t win something, we’re still going to upstage every group there.”

Bobby, watching from the kitchen island with a hand pressed dramatically to his chest, made a strangled sound.

“Don’t cry,” Eli warned, trying not to smile.

“I will cry!” Bobby sniffed. “Because I have taste. And this is taste incarnate.” He dabbed at his eye with a napkin. “Listen, angels. I’m leaving to schedule the next round of promo shoots and rehearsal slots. Do not destroy anything while I’m gone, or so help me,”

“We got this,” Mira said, saluting him with her tea.

Bobby blew kisses and swept out the door like a man leaving behind his legacy. The moment the door clicked shut, a hush settled. Not awkward. Not heavy. Just… expectant.

Rumi picked up her phone and tapped a few notes. “Okay. So. We need to show Eli what we’ve been working on.”

Eli blinked, still holding a measuring tape. “What?”

Mira waved her onto the couch. “Just sit. Listen.”

The girls exchanged glances, then began to sing.

At first, Eli thought it was a cover of More Than a Memory. The chords were familiar. The melody shimmered with longing. But the lyrics, these were different. Softer. Sadder. A kind of reaching she hadn’t expected.
Rumi sang first:

“We couldn’t see what we had in our hands
Chased shadows, left diamonds in the sand
우린 너무 빨랐어 (Urin neomu ppallasseo) – We moved too fast
Too blind… but time rewrote the lines…”

Zoey joined her:
“We were scared, we didn’t know
How much you gave before you let go
괴물이 아니었어 (Goemuri anieosseo) – You weren’t monsters
그저 아팠어 (Geujeo apasseo) – Just hurting
And we never asked why you were crying…”

Then Mira, her voice gentler than Eli had ever heard it:

“We missed the signs, we closed our eyes
Let pain and fear cut all our ties
But through the noise, your voices stayed
이젠 두렵지 않아 (Ijen duryeopji ana) – Now we’re not afraid.”

All together, their voices wrapped around Eli like a blanket stitched with stardust:

“You were more than the fear we held
More than the silence where we dwelled
Still the same, still the flame
이젠 보여 (Ijen boyeo) – Now we see
And we’re not the same
You’re worth it all, worth the ache
잊었던 보물 (Ijyeotdeon bomul) – The forgotten treasure
You’re the treasure we forgot to take.”

By the time the last note faded, Eli’s face was wet. No one moved.

Then she gave a shaky laugh and wiped her eyes. “Well… okay. Guess I’m crying in rhinestones today.”

Mira sat beside her, resting their foreheads together. “We’re sorry it took this long. But we’re with you now. All the way.”

Eli sniffled and smiled. “That song’s gonna wreck them.”

“Good,” Rumi said. “They need wrecking.”

They all laughed, even as their eyes stayed shiny.

Eli sniffed once more, pulling herself together as her brain kicked back into motion.

“You know what?” she said, sitting up straighter. “I had an idea.”

All eyes turned to her.

“For the performance,” she clarified. “If we’re going to bring them back, if this song is really going to do what we hope it can do, we’re gonna need a portal.”

Zoey blinked. “Like a magical portal?”
Rumi leaned in, intrigued. “Okay, how?”

“I think,” Eli said, fingers already twitching with design-energy, “that I can anchor one. But I need a mirror. A really big one. Black glass if possible. Stage center.”

Mira caught on fast. “Like the one in your closet, just…bigger?”

“Big enough to fit them all through,” Eli added with a crooked grin. “Magical, but also just a cool decoration to anyone who doesn’t know. It’s gonna look insane under the lights.”

Rumi was already typing. “I can text Bobby. The venue always does custom builds for big showcases like the Idol Awards. If we tell them we want a statement piece mirror and we’re confirming specs in person, they’ll let us check it out during setup.”

“Perfect,” Eli said, and leaned back with a glimmer in her eyes. “I’ll need to enchant it directly. We’ll need time alone with it.”

Zoey raised an eyebrow. “So we’re just casually doing spellwork now?”

“We sang a ghost-song that made me cry a minute ago. You’re already halfway to a coven,” Eli replied.

***

The venue’s loading dock buzzed with activity, crew members hauling lighting rigs and cables while stylists darted around with armfuls of sequins and hairspray. But the girls had one destination.

Past the backstage maze, in a cordoned-off set room lit by slanted skylights, stood the piece they came to see: a massive, seven-foot mirror with a blackened glass face. Its frame was wrought iron, twisted like vines around the edges. Even untouched, it exuded a kind of presence.

“Damn,” Zoey murmured. “That’s a mirror with main character energy.”

The tech left them with a nod and a “Take your time,” before disappearing through the back door. As soon as it clicked shut, Eli pulled a bundle from her ba, candles, herbs, a folded scrap of lace embroidered with sigils. She pressed her palm to the mirror and let out a breath.

“Okay,” she said, voice calm and clear. “Let’s wake it up.”

They formed a loose circle around her. Rumi and Mira lit the candles. Zoey scattered the herbs in a crescent around the base. Eli murmured a few low words, nothing too formal, just enough to anchor the energy. And then, softly at first, Rumi began to sing the new song. The others joined her. All the while Eli chanted just as her mother taught her, turning mirror from just glass. Something magical, and connected to them.

“We were scared, we didn’t know How much you gave before you let go…”

The mirror caught the light in a strange way, a blue glow seeming from each girl into it, rippling slightly as if water stirred behind the glass. Even Eli's lips turned to the shape of the lyrics as the energy rose.

“You’re still the same, still the flame, We see you now, and we’re not the same…”

A faint, violet shimmer rose from the herbs. The mirror’s surface pulsed once. Twice. And then a soft hum, like a tuning fork striking deep inside their bones, thrummed through the air. The mirror glowed faintly purple, just for a moment, and then stilled.

Eli stepped back, heart pounding.

“It’s ready,” she whispered.

Mira reached out, trailing her fingertips along the now-silent glass. “Feels like it’s watching.”

“It’s listening,” Eli corrected, her voice almost reverent. “Waiting.”

The girls stood together, reflected in the surface of the mirror they had just enchanted, not just idols (and their costume designer) preparing for a show, but guardians of something ancient, beautiful, and deeply personal.

The portal was primed.

Now all that was left… was to sing them home.

Chapter Text

The Idol Awards dressing room was a chaotic paradise of hairspray clouds, rhinestone lashes, and open chip bags.

Rumi was hunched over a cup of instant noodles, blowing gently before taking a bite. “This is either my last meal as a regular idol,” she said between slurps, “or my pre-portal power-up snack.”

Mira, lounging in a makeup chair with one eye lined and the other still bare, popped a rice cracker into her mouth. “As long as it’s not our final meal ever. That would be a letdown.”

“Don’t jinx it,” Zoey muttered, fanning herself with a glittery hand fan. “But seriously, do you think it’s gonna work?”

Eli adjusted her jacket and took a deep breath. “I hope so.”

She reached into her bag and pulled out the old CD. The faintest shimmer of magic still traced its surface like a heartbeat under glass.

“I’ll keep this on me,” she said quietly, showing it to the others. “Romance can hear me through it. If anything goes wrong… I’ll be right backstage. I’ll help guide it through.”

Rumi leaned forward. “So what exactly are we supposed to do? Sing and hope the mirror opens like a Disney villain gateway?”

“Basically,” Mira said dryly. “Sing from the heart. Focus on the mirror. Let the magic do the rest.”

“And no matter what,” Eli added, “don’t break focus on with the energy. That mirror is our bridge. It’s listening.”

Zoey gave the mirror a sideways glance. “Okay but if it’s listening… hey, mirror. If you’re reading this story anywhere other than Ao3, you’re looking at stolen work. Return to sender, thieving gremlin.”

Mira snorted. “You did not just sass the portal.”

“Oh, I did.” Zoey winked. “Consider it spiritually warded.”

Laughter broke the tension. It wasn’t much, but it helped.

The lights dimmed slightly. A knock at the door came from staff signaling five minutes to stage.

Eli slipped the CD back into her inner pocket, close to her chest. She met each of their eyes, one by one.

“We’re gonna sing them home,” she said.

Rumi stood. Mira grabbed her mic. Zoey finished her drink and handed Eri her jacket. And together, the girls walked toward the edge of magic and memory.

The Idol Awards were about to begin.

The hallway leading to the stage buzzed with tension. Stagehands darted around like particles in a shaken snow globe, and the murmur of the crowd beyond the curtain was a low, thunderous tide.

The girls walked in formation, heels clacking against polished floor, each step echoing like a countdown.

Eli lagged just behind, hand slipping into her coat. Her fingers found the familiar edge of the CD, and with one breath, she looked into it.

The glass shimmered.

Romance appeared like a dream remembered, eyes soft, his image framed in violet light and a hint of static. He looked like he was standing in fog again, but clearer this time. Sharper.

“Eli,” he said, breath catching. “It’s time, isn’t it?”

She nodded, smiling despite the nerves twisting her stomach. “We’re going on. The girls are ready. The mirror’s primed. I don’t know what’s going to happen, but… I just wanted to see you.”

His face softened. “You always find me.”

“I’ll be right behind the mirror, channeling everything I’ve got. Just… be ready.”

“I am. We all are.” His voice was steady now. “No matter what happens, I’m proud of you. And I love you.”

Tears stung her eyes, but she blinked them back. “I love you too. Now go look cool in case this ends up livestreamed into the human realm.”

That got a smirk out of him. Then the shimmer began to fade.

Eli closed the connection gently, like a sacred book, and pressed it to her heart once more.

The stage lights erupted into gold and plum, and the crowd exploded with cheers. The Idol Awards had begun. Backstage, the girls stood in a tight circle, hands lightly clasped, breaths held.

“This is it,” Mira murmured.

“Just focus on the song,” Rumi said, steady and sure.

Zoey nodded. “And the mirror. Don’t stop putting energy into it. Like it’s… like it’s alive.”

Eli was already behind it, kneeling in her salt circle. Her voice barely a whisper, she chanted under her breath, letting the rhythm of the words flow in time with the pulsing music. Each candle flickered with purpose, casting strange, layered shadows against the back of the mirror. She placed the glowing CD beside her, the link humming in her chest.

The audience waited.

The first note rang out.

And the show began.

***

Far away, or maybe not so far at all, the boys stood in the ruins of the stadium, lit now with strange color from the mist above. The shattered walls quivered with the vibration of something... happening.

Romance paced in a tight circle, the CD held in his hand like a lifeline. Baby sat at the edge of the cracked stage, kicking his heels and chewing his lip. Jinu adjusted the cuffs of his jacket for the hundredth time, muttering choreography counts under his breath. Mystery lay on his back, eyes on the sky like he could see the other world through it.

And Abby? Abby was doing push-ups. Shirtless Obviously.

Then the CD glowed.

Romance’s breath caught. He snapped it open.

Eli’s voice came through, faint but certain and when the connection closed, he turned to the others. “Positions!”

They all stood.

Without a word, they moved into their formation, muscle memory, instinct, soul-deep alignment. No crowd. No lights. Just the stage, the fog, the hum of something ancient awakening. The mirror between worlds was listening. And the boys were ready to be heard.

From behind the massive enchanted mirror, Eli’s fingers trembled around the edge of the glowing CD. Sweat beaded at her brow despite the chill of magic in the air. She could feel the energy building, like pressure behind glass, but so far… nothing.

Onstage, the girls sang beautifully. Every note hit. Every step precise.But the mirror remained still.

Zoey threw a glance toward the wings, voice steady but eyes filled with unease. Mira’s jaw tightened. And then Rumi stepped forward.

She didn’t miss a beat, didn’t stumble in the choreography. But between verses, she lifted the mic, breathless, and turned to the crowd with a sly grin that masked the pounding of her heart.

“Tell me something,” she called. “Do you miss the Saja Boys?”

A scream tore through the arena.

She let it ride, chest tight. “You ever wish you could see them again?”

The crowd’s roar became thunder.

Rumi grinned wider, turning it into performance. “Then help us bring them back, if only for one night.” She glanced at the others, who gave the slightest nods. No going back now. “Sing it with us!”

The music shifted. Lights dipped. And as the chorus came around again, Rumi raised her mic and called out:

“More than a memory…”

The audience echoed.

“More than a dream!”

And they sang. Tens of thousands of voices, unified and desperate and aching, surged like a tide toward the stage.

Behind the mirror, Eli’s head snapped up.

Golden light shimmered across the crowd like rippling water. The charged air prickled with electricity, as if the universe had just taken a breath.

Backstage, Bobby flipped through his clipboard. “This isn’t in the set list, wait, what the hell is happening?”

The venue staff exchanged bewildered glances, phones in hand, not a single cue written for this. But none of it mattered. Because in that moment, as the crowd repeated the chorus, the mirror began to glow.

A pulse of deep violet… then brighter… warmer… golden. The glass shimmered, alive now with power.

And Eli, kneeling with tears in her eyes and the CD pressed to her heart, whispered,

“It’s working!”

***

A golden light, soft as starlight and radiant as morning, swirled down from the misty sky like threads unspooling from a divine spindle. At first, they only heard it, just a whisper through the fog, like a dream remembered. Then clearer. Stronger.

Voices. A crowd. Their song.

Romance’s breath caught. “It’s working...”

Abyy’s eyes went wide, shimmering with awe. “They’re doing it. The girls, Eli, everyone. They’re singing.”

Jinu stood tall, hands at his sides. “It’s not just them,” he said, voice low. “It’s the fans. They want us back too.”

“They want us home,” Mystery murmured, stepping forward.

The golden light spiraled tighter, faster, glowing with the warmth of memory and belief and love. It circled the stage like a protective halo, and then, it converged. A brilliant, rippling portal tore open in the air before them.
And through it, color, light, and the roar of the real world.

They could see it.

The stadium. The Idol Awards. The crowd on their feet, screaming in disbelief.

Rumi gasped, a hand flying to her mouth as the mirror blazed like a star. “Oh my gods…”

Zoey’s voice cracked, clicking off her mic for a second, “It worked, holy shit it worked, ”

Mira was already moving, still singing, but her eyes locked on the portal as if afraid it would vanish.

The crowd exploded into euphoric chaos, thousands of voices screaming as the Saja Boys became visible through the mirror, their silhouettes slowly emerging from light.

The boys didn’t miss a beat.

Despite every tear, every miracle that had led them to this moment, they straightened their backs, held their chins high, and stepped through as if this had all been planned.

They looked… different. Still themselves. Still human. But marked with rainbow iridescence now, faint streaks across their skin like Rumi’s moonfire marks. Their eyes sparkled like stardust, charged with the energy of both worlds.

Abby was the first to leap through the portal, jogging toward center stage and waving at the stunned audience. Baby followed, then Jinu, Mystery, and Romance last, his gaze sweeping the stadium as if searching for someone. Stage hands raced out to hand them all mics before darting off stage again, stunned as everyone else.

And then the music hit.

The Saja Boys sang like they never left.

Their voices rang out as they performed their new choreography:

“We were more than a memory, more than a dream…”

Huntrix answered, breathless and fierce:

“We see you now, and we’re not the same…”

Together, in perfect harmony:

“You’re worth it all, worth the ache… You’re the treasure we forgot to take.”

The stage lights scrambled to catch up, frenzied techs working on-the-fly to match the glory now unfolding before thousands of eyes. Golds, purples, and soft white light spiraled together as if the stage itself had become part of the spell.

Bobby screamed backstage, throwing his clipboard in the air and clutching a lighting tech by the shoulders. “THIS IS HAPPENING. THIS IS REALLY- AUGH!-HAPPENING!”

Eli peeked out from behind the curtain. She spotted him, Romance. Right there on stage, smiling like the sun.

She burst into tears. But they were the best kind of tears. The kind you cry when something broken finally mends.

When a wish, whispered through music and magic, finally comes true.

The final chorus soared like sunrise.

“More than a memory, more than a dream…”

Their voices, Huntrix and the Saja Boys together, rang out across the stadium like a promise rewritten, breaking every boundary between what was lost and what could still be saved. The boys reprised just their version of the song, Baby's rap verse had the crowd nearly fainting with joy while Huntrix hyped them up.

The last note shimmered. Then silence. And then- An eruption.

The crowd was feral. Screaming. Crying. Waving signs and sobbing into glowing lightsticks. The stage shimmered with residual magic, and the mirror behind them pulsed with quiet, spent power.

Huntrix stepped forward, Rumi waving with tears streaming down her face, Mira bowing deeply, Zoey throwing finger-hearts with a grin sharp enough to cut diamonds.

They began to head offstage- Until the chant started.

“SAJA! SAJA! SAJA!”

The sound of ten thousand hearts thundering with one need.

Abby glanced at Romance, who looked back at Jinu, then at the crowd, then at each other.

Abby smirked. “What do you say?”

Romance raised his arms, speaking to the crowd. “You want more?”

The audience lost it.

Romance turned to the boys. “Let’s give them Soda Pop!”

The familiar beat burst through the stadium as the boys fell back into formation like no time had passed at all. The slick choreography, the sugary vocals, the ridiculous charm, it was all there.

By the second verse, fans were openly weeping while dancing, waving glowsticks and singing along like their lives depended on it. Staff members backstage were filming on their phones, crying, too. A tech sobbed into a headset while yelling cues. Bobby fainted against a makeup table.

The performance ended with the five boys in a perfect pose, winking, peace signs, or hearts. They bowed deeply, then turned and jogged offstage, breathless, glowing, overwhelmed.

Backstage-

Mira ran at them and threw her arms around Romance and Abby at once, both of them catching her easily. Abby lifted her off her feet for a second, then laughed and pulled her in tighter.

Rumi flung herself into Jinu’s arms like a girl in a drama finale, and he spun her, eyes shining. Then, without warning, she kissed him. He was stunned at first, but his hold on her tightened, and his eyes closed, kissing her back tenderly.

Zoey sprinted and tackled Mystery to the ground with all four limbs. “You unbelievable gorgeous, beautiful symmetrical, dewy, perfect prince, how are you real right now?”

“Ow,” Mystery wheezed. “But hi. I missed you too.”

Baby grinned, hands on his hips. “Anyone else single? No? Just me? Okay, well. My day will come.” (He winks at a non-existent camera, at you, dear reader ;p)

And then- Romance looked up.

And there she was.

Eli stood a few paces back, hands still shaking, makeup running from happy tears, breath stolen by the sight of him.

He took one step forward away from Mira and Abby who turned to watch, then another.

Their eyes locked. The crowd. The show. The world, forgotten.

Eli didn’t move.

Couldn’t.

Her whole body felt like it had been struck by lightning and then suspended in stillness. Her heart pounded so hard it nearly drowned out the stadium noise, the cheers, the aftershow chaos. She didn’t blink, didn’t breathe. She just stared.

Romance was there.

Alive. Real.

Looking right at her like she was the only person in the world.

He wasn’t moving either, not until his chest hitched and he took a trembling breath like he’d just surfaced from drowning.

Then he ran.

And Eli’s breath broke free in a sob as he closed the distance and swept her into his arms, spinning her clean off the ground in a spiraling, desperate hug. Her laugh cracked through her tears, raw and bright and stunned, and she clung to him like she might fall apart if she let go.

They kissed, crashing together like planets pulled into orbit, both of them crying, both of them laughing. Her hands cradled his face, smoothing back his hair, touching his jaw, his neck, like she had to map him all over again to prove he was really there.

“I missed you, I missed you so much-”

“I’m so sorry, I didn’t know, I didn’t remember, Eli, god, I love you-”

“Are you real?” she whispered, voice breaking. “Am I dreaming?”

“If you are,” Romance said, brushing his forehead to hers, “then don’t wake up. Please, don’t wake up,”

Their lips met again, soft and trembling, the kind of kiss that rewrote endings into beginnings.

And then,

“I don’t mean to interrupt,” came Mira’s voice, light and amused but glassy with emotion, “but I did kind of help summon our dead boyfriend back to life, so I feel like I earned at least one group hug.”

Abby appeared beside her, arms crossed and grinning. “Also, we’re in a polycule now, apparently, so I call dibs on second hug rights.”

Romance and Eli both laughed, breathlessly, tearfully.

Eli reached for Mira’s hand, and Romance held out his arm toward Abby.

And in the next second, all four of them were wrapped together in a tangle of limbs, laughter, and watery smiles. No longer broken, no longer lost.

The whole group had gathered now, laughing, crying, beaming through tears.

Jinu and Rumi stood hand-in-hand, their fingers tangled like they were afraid to let go. Zoey clung to Mystery’s arm, her face buried in his shoulder even as she giggled through her sniffles. Baby came up behind them, slinging an arm around both their shoulders like a proud big brother, grinning wide at the tangled web of emotion, love, and second chances.

Romance had one arm still wrapped around Eli’s waist, the other outstretched toward Mira and Abby beside them. Eli leaned against him, her eyes shimmering, their foreheads still brushing now and then like they couldn’t bear even an inch of distance.

They were alive.

They were here.

Together.

And as the echo of the crowd still thundered through the walls, Bobby peeked around the corner from backstage, wiping his eyes with his sleeve and whispering, “I’m putting this in the group chat: history was made tonight, bitches.”
But it was Mira who said it best, voice quiet, awe-filled:

“We really brought them back.”

Chapter Text

The Idol Awards were over, but the world was only just catching its breath.

Clips of Huntrix’s performance had already gone viral, racking up millions of views within hours. Headlines buzzed with disbelief, Saja Boys return from the dead?!, while fan forums exploded with theories, tears, and grainy screenshots of glowing marks and portal magic. There were theories that the boys had been on hiatus, in the military, or some other normal reason, while others had theories that were far closer to the truth, but still missed the mark just slightly.

But none of that mattered right now.

Not to the ones who had lived it.

Back at the apartment, their apartment now, everyone had collapsed into piles of limbs and laughter. -To hell with idol rules about dating, there was no room for that now. The girls had swapped their stagewear for pajamas and fluffy robes. The boys had ditched their jackets and boots for borrowed sweatpants and oversized tees. Romance wore one of Eli’s hoodies. Abby had Mira’s fuzzy socks. Baby had managed to steal all the blankets.

The living room glowed with soft string lights. Sushi and snacks cluttered the coffee table. Someone had cued up their original debut MV, and now everyone was groaning as they watched their past selves dance with perfect seriousness in terrible outfits.

“Oh my god, I looked like a bubblegum ghost,” Abby groaned, flopping backwards.

“You were a bubblegum ghost,” Mira teased, leaning against him.

“Still hot, though,” Romance muttered, and Abby smirked, nudging his shoulder against his.

They were sprawled together on the circular couch,Rumi curled into Jinu’s side, Mystery with his legs draped over Zoey’s lap while she braided sparkly string into his hair, Baby bouncing a hackey-sack (fidget toy) off his head. And Eli, snuggled against Romance, her hands twined in his as if anchoring them both.

No one spoke for a while. Just the sound of old music, of breathing, of the kind of quiet that means everything is exactly where it should be.

Finally, Rumi looked up, voice dreamy.

“Can you believe we did it?”

Romance hummed. “Not really. Still waiting to wake up.”

Eli turned to him, her voice soft. “This is real. You’re home.”

He leaned down and kissed her forehead. “Then I’m never leaving again.”

Across the room, Zoey sighed happily. “So what now?”

Bobby, who had fallen asleep in a chair with a glitter face mask on, suddenly mumbled, “World tour. Movie rights. Merch deals. A makeup line.”

Everyone laughed.

But then Mystery raised a hand. “I vote we start with sleep.”

“Sleep and dumplings,” Baby added.

“And pancakes tomorrow,” Jinu said.

“Pancakes and dumplings?” Zoey gasped. “You’re speaking my love language.”

One by one, they fell quiet again, dozing against each other. The screen flickered to a photo montage, memories of the boys' debut era, concert clips, behind-the-scenes footage… And then, without warning, a grainy fan video from just a few hours ago played.

The crowd screaming.

The mirror glowing.

The moment the boys stepped back into the world.

Romance’s voice, echoing over the chaos:

“Even now… 사랑해. I’ll sing for you… 다시 만날 때까지. (…Until we meet again.)"

And now they had.