Sketches & Shenanigans

"I..." he says, because it's what he's supposed to say next. "I don't hear his voice."

It doesn't shock him anymore. He can't even truly enjoy it. He knows it won't last.

Rumi looks up at him in wonder.

"I'll make sure the Saja Boys lose tomorrow," Jinu says numbly.

The hope on Rumi's face is almost enough for him to accept what's coming next.

But no. He's still scared.

"Then we'll both win," Rumi says.

She turns to walk away.

"Rumi, wait!" Jinu says. "I—"

This is still scripted. This is normal. He was supposed to ask her to wait. But he knows he means the words so much more than he did the first time. Don't go. Please. Please, somehow.

Rumi turns back.

"I..." Jinu says.

He knows, of course, his next words. "I can't wait to see you on that stage tomorrow." That's what he's supposed to say. That's what he has to say. That's what he's going to say.

"Please stay," Jinu whispers.

No. Stupid. Stupid. Why did he do that?!

Rumi frowns and takes a step closer. "What do you mean?"

This is foolish, and stupid, and won't help anything. It might mess everything up. But Jinu can't—no. He doesn't want to turn back now. Now that he's let himself recognize his fear, it is all-consuming.

He doesn't want Rumi to leave.

"As soon as you leave," Jinu says unsteadily, "his voice will be back. It'll be bad. He won't be happy. It'll hurt." His voice shakes on the last word, to his deepening shame.

Rumi's face twists with something. Pity? Compassion? He's not sure. Both are so foreign to him in every way.

She walks closer. "I can stay," she says softly. "Not all night, but for a little while."

"Thank you," Jinu whispers.

Rumi sits down at the top of the stairs. Jinu follows suit, staring down at the stone steps. He can't believe he did this. This was such a bad idea.

He flinches when Rumi takes his hand.

"Shall we talk about something else?" she says.

"Okay," Jinu says.

Rumi tilts her head back and looks up at the dark sky. "You know," she says, "I do love the city lights, but I wish we could see more stars."

"In my time," Jinu says, "you could see thousands of them. Every night, all you had to do was look up, and there they'd be."

"That sounds beautiful," Rumi murmurs.

"Yeah," Jinu says. "It was. I didn't appreciate it often then, but you're right—it was."

"After all this," Rumi says, "we should go to the countryside sometime. Look at the stars."

After. Will there be an after? Will this finally be the time Jinu lives past the battle with Gwi-Ma?

Probably not. If or when time finally keeps flowing, Rumi probably won't remember they ever had this conversation.

"We'll do that, then," Jinu says anyway.

That's the funny thing about hope. Nobody else gets to decide if you feel it. That choice is up to you.

Someday, some timeline, Jinu will take her to a place she can see the stars.

Rumi leans into Jinu and then cautiously rests her head on his shoulder. Jinu freezes.

He and the Saja Boys lean on each other's shoulders all the time, but this is Rumi. A hunter. A woman. Someone he's only known for a few days.

Jinu decides it doesn't matter. He relaxes, lets go of her hand, and wraps an arm around her shoulders, and it feels just as natural as with any of the Saja Boys.

Rumi doesn't stir at his gesture. She trusts him. And though Jinu's own thoughts remind him of all the times he's betrayed her, Gwi-Ma's voice doesn't scream it at him. His mind is quiet.

Gwi-Ma, Jinu remembers with dismay. He's going to be even more furious than in other timelines after this. Jinu swallows hard.

No. Don't think about that. That's why Rumi is here, to give his thoughts peace. Just think about Rumi. Beautiful, perfect, imperfect Rumi.

He lo—

No. He is not going to have that thought either. That's ridiculous.

"What's something about yourself I don't know?" Jinu asks.

Rumi hums. "Good question. Uh... I tried to learn to juggle when I was like 10."

Jinu laughs. "Really? Why?"

"I don't know, I thought it would be fun? Plus hand-eye coordination is always a good thing for, yknow, the whole fighting demons thing. I was never great at juggling, though, and I lost interest quickly."

"I see," Jinu says.

"What about you?"

Her question catches him off guard, despite being perfectly logical. "What?"

"What's a random thing about you I don't know?"

"Um," Jinu says. "I..." His mind goes completely blank for a moment. Finally, he says, "When I was human, I really liked watching fish. It was a small thing, but every time I'd pass over the bridge, I'd pause to look at the fish swim for a few moments."

"Aww, that's actually adorable!" Rumi says.

"How is that adorable?" Jinu protests.

"It just is," Rumi says firmly. "You should talk to Zoey sometime—she's interested in turtles, not fish, but I'm sure you two could find some common ground to talk about."

"I see," Jinu says, half-laughing.

"Oh my God," Rumi says suddenly, sitting up. "Have you ever been to an aquarium?"

"A what?"

"No freaking way," Rumi says. She turns to him. "We absolutely must go to an aquarium with us and Zoey sometime. It's this place where you just—look at all kinds of fish."

Jinu looks at her incredulously. "There's an entire place to watch fish?"

"Yes!" Rumi says delightedly. "Exactly! You'll love it."

"We'll go there too, then," Jinu says.

"Good," Rumi says with a smile.

Then her face falls a bit. "Is it okay if I go home now? I really do need to sleep."

Jinu closes his eyes. No. It's not okay. What's coming now will be even worse than before.

But he's kept Rumi here long enough.

At least now he has this happy memory to cling to.

"Yeah," Jinu says, "go home and sleep. I'll see you tomorrow."

Rumi stands. Then she pauses. "You're still scared, aren't you," she says softly.

Why are his eyes filling with tears? Why can't he control his stupid emotions? "I—" Jinu says, intending to say "I'm fine," but his voice cracks.

He blinks. The tears spill down his cheeks. Rumi reaches out slowly, carefully, and brushes them away with her thumbs.

Jinu's hands shoot out and grab her wrists. Not to stop her, just—to hold her. Rumi runs her thumbs across his cheeks again, and more tears spill over at that.

"I don't want you to go," Jinu admits quietly, his voice shaking.

"I know," Rumi whispers.

Her eyes are wet. A tear runs down one cheek, then the other.

She's crying. He made her cry. He's so selfish and horrible.

Rumi leans her head closer to Jinu's until they're breathing each other's air. Exhales touching skin like feathers, skin separated by a sliver of air.

It's not a kiss, and it's not meant to be, but it's one of the most intimate things Jinu has ever experienced.

Rumi cries as they stay that way, and so does Jinu.

"I know," Rumi repeats. "I don't want to leave you either. I'm sorry."

Jinu bites his tongue to keep from begging "please".

He needs to be the one to let go. Not Rumi. Jinu unclenches his hands and lets them fall to his sides. He hadn't even realized how hard he'd been gripping her forearms.

"Did I hurt you?" he asks.

Rumi shakes her head. Then with one last pass of her thumbs over his cheekbones, she lets her own hands drop and takes a step back.

Jinu wipes his eyes roughly. "I'm sorry," he says. "I...I'm sorry. I'll be okay. I'll see you tomorrow. I know you'll sing beautifully."

"Thanks," Rumi mumbles. Then she turns and hurries down the steps.

Jinu silently watches her go.