Chapter Text
When Jinu awoke -
Wait…was he supposed to be awake? The fact that he was still alive at all…well, that fact didn’t seem…right. But he couldn’t remember why that fact seemed incorrect. His consciousness came back in fits and spurts, the shattered fragments of who he was gradually falling back into place. But just like his consciousness, his memory was filled with holes and cracks.
When he was finally cognizant enough to realize himself, cognizant to the feel of his body, he stretched his limbs out slow, but he kept his eyes closed. Listening. Listening to the silence.
The silence surrounding him was oppressive, his eardrums ringing with the complete and utter lack of sound. There was no motion in the air to reverberate the tiny bones in his ears, to send signals to his brain that there was anything to hear. His brows pinched in confusion, concentrating on the sound.
Or lack of it.
He carefully sat up, opening his eyes to look at his surroundings. If mild confusion laced his features before, it was replaced with utter bewilderment. Fog? Colorless fog, spreading across the field in front of him. He cocked his head to the side, considering before he gave a slow blink.
He twisted, the muscles of his abdomen pulling stiffly, to look behind him, only finding more swirling fog. Just more mist.
He stood up stiffly, and checked himself over for injuries. Running his fingers over his skin, up first up his forearms. It didn’t…feel right. But he couldn’t pinpoint why, not yet. He tugged his shirt up over his lean form and grazed his fingers over his stomach, across the top line of his shoulders.
Why? Why I am doing this? It seemed like…an appropriate thing to do.
His memory was hazy, half-formed memories swirling in his mind just like the fog around him. A prickling, persistent sense of unease overcame him, an itch he couldn’t quite scratch. What happened? He raised his hand and watched as the fog curled and twisted over his fingers. As he considered his predicament, the memory slammed back. Of Gwi-Ma and the final confrontation at the Idol Awards, of fire and acrid scent of smoke. Of his body crumbling to dust, the agony of Gwi-Ma’s flames scorching his nerves before the pain faded.
Of Rumi. Of his betrayal and of his sacrifice.
He stumbled back as if the weight of it was a physical force that had rammed into his chest. He choked back a gasp. He shouldn’t be alive.
He died.
After a moment to settle his nerves, he opened his eyes and took in the surrounding area. Again. There were no trees, no buildings, no distinguishable horizon. But he couldn’t stay where he was.
This isn’t the underworld. But it’s not the human world either.
But there had to be something. So he began to walk.
He didn’t know how long he walked, but he walked, and walked and walked, finding nothing but more fields of fog. When his body was well past the point of exhaustion (or it should have been), he collapsed to his knees. That itching sense of unease had grown, becoming an insatiable monster that was ripping at his heart, threatening to burst out of his chest. But it had quickly became apparent to him that it didn’t matter. Because Time wasn’t a factor – there was no sun, no moon, or the subtle change of color to indicate the passage of time. Nothing but the endless waves of rolling fog and roaring silence.
He reached down through the mist to touch the ground – only to find nothing. “What the fuck?!” He sucked in a harsh breath as he lurched back to his feet. He should’ve been falling! But the fog and the empty air continued its slow, languid dance underneath his feet. Something else was also nipping at his mind, something he couldn’t quiet place. His brows furrowed, mulling it over. Something is very wrong.
—-
He held his hand in front of his face and snapped his fingers. The muscles moved, he could feel the internal tug in the tendons, but even that didn’t feel correct. However, the sound never reached his ears.
He was completely deaf.
But that small act brought about another chilling realization- he couldn’t feel anything. How did I not noticed before?? Not heat or cold, no moisture coating his skin from the fog. It wasn’t just external stimuli either – he couldn’t feel his own body. Why when he’d snapped his fingers, it had felt so odd – because he could feel the muscles move, but not the pressure of his fingertips against each other. He pinched the skin of his wrist, testing.
It was only the slightest hint of pressure, like feeling a touch through layers and layers of clothing. Or numbed skin. He let his claws grow long and pinched harder. Needle like claws punched through the flesh, not that he could feel it. He watched the blood drip from the small wounds with morbid fascination. What the hell? He pressed his wrist to his mouth to stem the flow. Blood on his tongue and the taste was the barest hint of iron, the heat of it non-existent.
It’s hard thing to comprehend - nothing. Not the grey of night just before dawn, not the black behind closed eyes, but nothing. Nothing to perceive or be perceived by.
He continued to walk – there was nothing else he could do.
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The nothing drove him to madness. He walked, he ran, he crawled trying to find anything.
At first it started with whispers.
“Look at where your actions got you, Jinu. Abandoned. “
“Alone.”
“Forgotten.”
“Just like your mother and your sister. How long do you think it took them to starve after you left them for the palace? Your sister was such a sickly child, perhaps it was illness that took her first…But you wouldn’t know that, would you? You slept with your belly full on clean, silken sheets.”
He couldn’t tell whose voice it was anymore. But it was only his mind conjuring old spirits to keep him company, spirits to haunt him. Only that they taunted him endlessly.
He crumpled, summoning his claws. He tried to tear the ground, the anger, the desperation, the madness erupting in a viscous, brutal display. But of course, he found none. The only solace he found was turning his desperate aggression inward, to tear at his flesh in a vain attempt to feel anything. But it was like watching a video of a stranger slitting their wrists through a computer monitor, his eyes a blinking camera lens, for as much as he could feel it. He screamed, he roared, claws splitting into his flesh, flaying open the skin of his throat, his face, everywhere he could reach.
Was this worth it?
His screaming broke into sobs and he dropped his bloody head into his bloody hands.
Was saving Rumi worth this?
Of course it was.
He only wished he could have done more- went on an actual date, held her hand, pulled her close, kissed her, fu - He quickly shook his head and dragged himself from that train of thought. Such thoughts wouldn’t do him any good. But he couldn’t help it – he imagined how her soft hair would feel as he carded his fingers through it. He pictured ghosting his fingers over her face, committing it to memory. Feel the heat of her skin under his fingers he traced along her body, her patterns.
Such thoughts were the only thing keeping him sane.
Relatively.
He sighed. The weight of his betrayal was heavy. He had to find a way out. I have to find my way back to her. I have to make this right.
I have to. There was no other choice.
He surged to his feet and began to walk, blood dripping from wounds he couldn’t feel.
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He awoke, well - awoke from that thing that a close to sleep as he could get.
But something was different. The fog still moved in it’s endless, quiet dance. But he could sense a difference in the veil. He cocked his head and listened – it was a low, so low that he doubted that it was even real. A quiet, steady tempo from...somewhere
Jinu tilted his head back, sniffing. Along with the subtle sound was also the smell of...flowers? He shot to his feet to follow, the only guiding force that world of smothering fog and deafening silence had offered him.
As he walked, the sound grew, slowly, ever so slowly. He wasn’t sure if his broken mind was playing tricks or not.
Thump-thump
Thump-thump
Thump-thump
He froze - it was a heartbeat. Slow and steady, alive. Please be real. He broke out in a sprint. Please.
It was such as gradual change Jinu didn’t even notice the world changing at first. It started as a soft light, a blue glow in the curtain of fog and the heartbeat grew stronger.
He slid to a stop as glowing blue wall of mist billowing up before him. He snarled, and with all of his might, launched through the veil
Into a world of light, of color, sounds -
He fell, his knees striking a cool marble floor. He could’ve sobbed at the sensation of the cool stone pulling the heat from his skin. Before him was a large white sofa, with an equally as large TV. A movie he didn’t recognize played, and a strong music track played from hidden speakers.
But that’s not what he was here for. That steady heartbeat still called to him. He stood again and moved around the living room. He walked past the large bay windows, looking out high over the city. A door opening into what appeared to be a bedroom, slightly cracked.
He reached out and his hand phased through it.
The door swung fully open and before him was Rumi. She was wearing an oversized hoodie, and sweatpants. Her eyes for bloodshot and puffy. Her glaze was distant, looking past him. Her heartbeat steadily calling to him.
“Rumi!” He reached for her, only for her to pass right through him.
What the actual FUCK!?!?!?
All he wanted to do was scoop her up into his arms and he couldn’t even do that! She shivered as his hand passed through her and she stepped into the room.
“Rumi, please….” He begged. He was back, why couldn’t she see him? Why couldn’t he touch her? Why? WHY? WHY? She walked over to the sofa and unceremoniously flopped down before pulling a plush blanket over her entire body.
He gawked at her, before moving over to sit down beside her and the incredibly soft sofa accepted him with open arms. He watched Rumi fall into an unsteady slumber. When the blanket slid down her face when she rolled over, he couldn’t resist. He reached out and carefully traced the curve of her cheek with his fingers. She trembled in her sleep and tugged the blanket back up.
“Sorry, Rumi….” At least she could feel him. Sort of.
She mumbled his name and pulled the blanket even closer.
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As Rumi slept, he was honestly curious. He quickly explored the entirety of Huntrix’s flat. The open kitchen in its modern, white marble and grey cabinet glory. The three bedrooms, a reflection of their owners and the long hallway of full of colorful outfits of all varieties. He shouldn’t have poked around as much as he did but after an untold amount of time in a colorless void, he couldn’t resist.
The sounds were a gift from Heaven itself – from the movies playing on the tv, the the low sounds of the city outside the windows. But Rumi - her voice, even as mumbles in her sleep... now that was a thing of beauty. As corny as it sounds, she had the voice of an angel and Jinu, if anything, was a sucker for corny.
Jinu honestly felt a pang of jealously and longing. His anger boiled low and his energy built and pulsed and writhed under his skin. The TV flickered.
Huh.
Interesting.
So he wasn’t completely cut off. He could use that. He just had to figure out how.
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Rumi made a distressed sound in her sleep, a choked cry. Jinu was instantly at her side, kneeling before her. “Rumi…..Rumi, it’s ok….” He reached out and touched her again. Cradling her face in his hands. Her eyes were open, but clearly her mind was elsewhere, staring into nothing.
She made another broken little sound and her hands were grabbing his, holding on for dear life.
“...Jinu?” half sleep and confused, she tried to sit up.
“It’s ok, Rumi….” he whispered, continuing to carefully rubbing her cheeks with his thumbs.
“You can’t be here...must be a dream….” That shattered his heart.
But he didn’t have much time to dwell on it – Rumi had reached out and grabbed hold of the front of his shirt and pulled him closer. She fisted his dark hair and pulled him into a brutal kiss, full of desire, want, of need. Her tongue shoved its way into his mouth and he reciprocated, chasing, chasing, chasing her sweet taste and sweet sounds. Wanting to taste, wanting to feel her heat, wanting more. Wanting her everything. Desire and heat pooled in his gut and his arousal was heavy between his legs
“I need you Jinu….”
“I know…” he paused and pulled back, “but...I need all of you. And not as a dream….” Not as a figment of her imagination
She stared at him a moment, and tears began to flow down her cheeks. “But a dream is all I have of you…”He continued to kissed her head, lips ghosting over her face. Her eyes eventually closed and she fell into an exhausted slumber again.
He wanted her more than anything, but in her sleep, not herself, lost in her grief.
No. Not now.
But still the desire remained.
The taste of her still on his tongue, the heat of her mouth, the feel on her hands on him – he reached down into pants and he slowly stroked his erection. She wanted him and wanted him badly and stoked him further.
But there was no pleasure from it, only that faraway sense of pressure, as his hand moved up and down his heavy arousal. Just like the feel of his claws in his skin. Just enough to work him up further, but not enough, not nearly enough.
His forehead thumped against the edge of the couch, a snarl dying in his throat.
The ache of desire remained and there was nothing he could do.
At the edges of his vision, he thought he spot curling tendrils of colorless fog. And before long, he was devoured by it once again.