Save the date

Bobby was thrilled with the new song and called it catchy, but tragic and soul-stirring. That was exactly the effect she and the girls were hoping for. After rehearsal, Rumi plopped down on the sofa and stretched out her aching legs. “Didn’t you get enough sleep?” Zoey asked kindly. Rumi imagined what would happen if she kept quiet about something so important… “Yesterday I went to the demonic world,” she confessed honestly. Mira dropped a cup of noodles, and the nasty splashing sound broke the heavy silence. Jumping up and swearing at the boiling water, she yelled at the ceiling and went to get a mop. Zoey narrowed her eyes at Rumi and didn’t take them off her until Mira had cleaned up the noodle mess. “Spill it!” they demanded in unison. With a sigh, Rumi began from afar and told them how she had hung out with Jinu before. “You fell for the cat,” Mira declared, crossing her arms over her chest. “A big, clumsy cat,” Zoey echoed, stamping her foot. “Anyone would have fallen for it. Understandable, but we disapprove.” “You drooled over cute faces, so don’t judge me,” Rumi rolled her eyes. “By the way, I have something for you…” She rummaged through her backpack and pulled out two letters that had been slipped to her while she was naping with Jinu on the bench. They were sealed, but on the back were funny faces of Mira and Zoey, so it was easy to guess who they were for. Mira received a drawing of a bouquet of cherry blossoms—a rather touching message, in Rumi’s opinion. Instead of signatures, there were also amusing faces of Romance and Abby, one winking and blowing a kiss, the other playing with his eyebrows and pointing his eyes downwards. Rumi snorted. It was so typical of them. Cooing over the drawing, Mira beamed and silently wiped away a single tear. Zoey’s letter was much more explicit: three ink-drawn human hearts, anatomically accurate, were tied with black ribbon, and the bottom of the message was chewed and torn in someone’s mouth. Numerous marks from sharp fangs resembled holes from a paper puncher. And yet Zoey pressed the message from Mystery and Baby to her chest and, giggling foolishly, spun around the room. When the girls had dealt with their emotions, they pounced on Rumi with redoubled interest, demanding to hear all about her journey to the demonic world. “What happened to Gwi-Ma? Is he alive too, gathering strength?” Zoey asked when Rumi finished. The only thing she didn’t mention was Sussy’s new appearance—not that the girls had ever met this bird before. “Um… I didn’t ask?” Rumi smiled tensely. “Distracted by your kitten, yeah, and forgot about the rest of the world,” Zoey pouted. “But you’ll go back to them, right?” Mira asked firmly, as if she would accept a ‘no’ for an answer. “Then we have to send them something! Maybe sweets? Hot sauce? Glitter?” “Fine,” Rumi nodded gloomily. She had to come to terms with her role as a carrier pigeon. “Make a list of questions and put together a package.” “Rumi, where’s the Fuji I gave you?” Zoey asked, jumping around the room like a grasshopper. Her hands were full of some kind of rubbish—was it a pink collar? No, Rumi didn’t want to know… “Where’s what?” “Well, the Instax Mini camera, you know, it prints cards right away,” Zoey explained with shining eyes. “Sit down, Zoey, order online everything you want to send to your suffocated guys,” Mira muttered, already writing five questions on a blank page of the notebook. “While Rumi is looking for the camera she definitely didn’t lose,” she looked meaningfully at Rumi, “then you can look at what I’ve jotted down. By the way, where did you get that collar? I want to buy two!” Rumi covered her ears and ran to the storage room, where the majority of the gifts from the girls, Bobby, Celine, and fans ended up. She was grateful to all of them—truly!—but most of the items didn’t evoke any emotion in her. A camera? They were constantly being photographed. A bath set? Okay, now she could appreciate it… The box with the unopened camera was found between the robot vacuum cleaner and the inflatable flamingo. The impromptu photo shoot lifted everyone’s spirits, so when Rumi sensed Derpy and Sussy approaching, she beckoned the girls to follow her into the room. While Rumi looked sceptically at the short, drool-covered note asking for good luck, Zoey and Mira cooed over the embarrassed tiger, who, startled by the unexpected attention, backed away, knocked over a floor lamp, and stepped on a bottle of chilli sauce, filling the room with cries of pain. The mop was already at hand, but everyone needed a shower, and fast: they were sneezing and crying, itching and covered in rashes. Rolling his eyes in a magpie manner, Sussy flapped his wing, and the traces of the exploded chilli bomb vanished. Mira tried to stroke the bird, but got pecked on the fingers. Unhappy with what was happening, Sussy smoothly settled on Rumi’s shoulder. We are behind schedule, he whispered so quietly that only she could hear him. Today is an important night. Sussy offered no explanation, which Rumi had to accept. Perhaps it had something to do with Jinu’s note. She hurried the girls along, and, laden with a stack of photographs, a list of forty-two questions, and a box of food, she followed Derpy into the demonic world. Something about it… had changed noticeably. Rumi opened her eyes surrounded by rowdy demons. They jumped and waved flashlights on sticks, the ground shaking beneath their feet. But the familiar noise quickly helped her understand what Rumi was in the middle of. The sound of familiar voices carried over the crowd, and even the air thickened with the power put into the song. Following the pull, forgetting her companions and her belongings, Rumi moved towards the stage. The demons parted before her in some unknown dance. Their demonic marks glowed—and hers shone too. Finally, she saw them. The incredible Saja Boys. Her demonic eyes didn’t allow her to miss a single detail of their grand performance. We were told that we alone were right, Our ways were decent in the sight, The infallibility’s crowns Shielded us from huntresses’ draws. No strength to tear our eyes away, First time we dared to stir the fray, Though our words were soft and fair, Their refusal was like a nightmare. First, graceful as a wildcat untamed, Two of us want carefully to claim, Her eyes follow hard and sculpted might, While ears fall for allure’s delight. Another, seeming quite weak and pure, Waits for the cryptic and immature, Our tactile bonds will sway her mind, We will leave the marks—deep and entwined. The last holds a frightening secret, Her origin we call infrequent, So unruly as a raging tide, And yet she is just like us inside. No strength to tear our eyes away, First time we dared to stir the fray, Though our words were soft and fair, Their refusal was like a nightmare. We will kneel and ask them to forgive, Will bow heads for sincere relief, Will throw away our old selves, Releasing icy hearts from the shelves. Mesmerised, Rumi moved her lips, repeating the words of the song dedicated to the hunters. To Mira, Zoey and her. The song bordered on indecency, but between the lines it revealed the true feelings of Jinu and the other demons. They repented. Maybe not completely, but it was a start, as Jinu had said earlier. Rumi screamed, hoping to support them. And then the wave of emotions swirling in her chest burst out into the world like a red-hot ball. She wanted so much to be on equal footing with them again: to compete in silly games, chase each other around the bathhouse, sing together, kiss for the first time… She was afraid to express so many desires, but the song made them spiral out of control. Everything froze. The Saja Boys fell silent. Jinu looked at Rumi, and his golden eyes burned with something she never wanted to see in them—fear. Coming to his senses, he flew off the stage and moved towards her. Suddenly, a heavy hand grabbed Rumi by the shoulder and dragged her away. Jinu screamed something to her, but disappeared from view too quickly. Someone picked Rumi up and threw her roughly to the ground. Summoning her sword and rolling into a more comfortable position for attack, she was ready to cut off the head of the demon who dared to assault her when six eyes pinned Rumi to the spot. The veil was thrown back, and nothing hid the sharp features of the face she remembered only from her mother’s old photographs. The man’s demonic markings glowed dimly silver in the shadows of the courtyard, which Rumi finally recognised. This was where her fellow demons lived. Regaining her voice, she managed to utter only one word: “Father?”