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He’d not always been a tiger. Certainly, he’d not always been a demonic one, that much he knows, though as the centuries pass he finds it harder to remember who he truly is…was…should be. He’s been a tiger for several centuries now, however, attached to the human-demon-master-friend named Jinu, for at least three of those. He’s had many names, many faces, but ever since finding Jinu he’s been content to stay by the human-demon-spirit who sings so prettily and demands nothing of him. With Jinu, Gwi-ma’s voice means nothing.
The bird shows up shortly after he meets Jinu. He steals the hat Jinu makes for him. Then the next. And the next. And the next. At first, it angers him. How dare this small creature steal what Jinu has made specially for him? Who does this upstart think he is? Then, the anger fades to amusement as Jinu gets first angry, then exasperated, on his behalf. Sometimes he treats it like a game, chasing after the bird, sometimes he simply lets it go. The hat suits the bird better anyways.
Time passes and he learns more of Jinu’s past, told in hushed whispers and broken sobs muffled as Jinu presses up against his side, face buried in his fur, and does his best to comfort his master-friend. He listens to the growing whispers of the demon realm, a brewing storm, with tail twitching. Gwi-ma grows unhappy. Jinu grows anxious. The air of the demonic realm turns fraught with a charged anticipation and fear as the Honmoon knits itself tighter together every time the god-blessed girls above sing and their fans light up with joy. Then, Jinu makes his proposal and suddenly, for the first time in centuries, he sees the blue sky again.
He doesn’t mind that Jinu uses him as a messenger. He doesn’t even mind Jinu sending the bird to watch over him and make sure he doesn’t stray. He understands. As the years have passed, he’s grown more and more cat-like, more and more easily distracted. Derpy they call him. That doesn’t mean he’s actually stupid. He knows when he knocks over the flowerpot that the likelihood of him righting it is slim. He still tries. For one, it’s a point of principle. He knocked it over and wants it righted. For another, the more he fails and the more it falls over, the more it becomes a game and not a task. But more importantly, the purple-haired god-blessed girl lowers her sword. She doesn’t look at him in fear. No. Instead, she rights the flower pot and he looks up at her in awe. Not because she righted the flower pot. But because she would stoop to help him. Him, a glowing, blue demonic tiger. He takes a step forward to thank her in some small way and knocks the pot over again. Slowly, he looks down at the pot in dismay, but before he can attempt to right the blasted thing again, she’s there, righting and moving the pot before he can reach it. Then she’s smiling and laughing, albeit in confusion, softly and wondering what to make of him and the bird. Right then and there, he knows: this one is a friend, this one is now his human.
Watching Jinu and Rumi trade notes and barbs back and forth, he comes to another conclusion fairly quickly. These two are idiots. The bird even agrees with him.
“Why don’t they just take each other?” he asks after one particularly embarrassing display. Barbs traded back and forth, a bracelet given in haste, two figures hurrying off after an awkward exchange. “It’s not like anyone could actually stop them if they cared to put their minds to it.”
They’ve both seen the way Jinu’s steps light the Honmoon up in blue when he sings with Rumi. They’ve both seen the way Rumi’s patterns glint purple when she gets frustrated and mad. The two have enough in common that if they could just get their act together, one way or the other, they could resonate and either seal or destroy the Honmoon for good.
“Stubbornness. Pride. Willful blindness. Human idiocy,” croaks the bird, rolling all six of its eyes. “Take your pick.”
When the idiots do not get their act together, when Jinu makes the horrible decision to go against the other half of his soul and stands on stage with the other demons he’d gathered to form his infernal band, he stands by Jinu’s side, silent and comforting as always. In his mouth, he offers up Rumi’s bracelet as a reminder. It’s not too late. Jinu can still change his mind.
But the fool opens his mouth and sings and Gwi-ma is summoned. Then he has to go and change his mind halfway through anyways, stepping in between Gwi-ma and Rumi. Idiot. Then Jinu is gone in a flash of blue light, the girls’ song seals the Honmoon, and in the aftermath, he and the bird remain above ground, directionless.
They decide to stay close to the girls, specifically Rumi, for whether she knows it or not, she holds Jinu’s soul now. They follow her from the shadows and perch on rooftops, never engaging until one night he hears her sobs from the balcony, the blue and purple bracelet gripped hard in her hands.
Without waiting for agreement from the bird, he sinks into the ground, and rises up behind her, so quietly even she does not notice until his head bumps her leg. She shrieks and whirls, eyes wide and teary, but when she sees them, the bird looking down at him with admonishment, she collapses on him, hugging his big body tight, and sobs.
After that, they stay closer to her, popping in and out of her rooms as they please, when they think she needs them most or whenever they are feeling particularly bored. Eventually, they get caught.
“RUMI!” hollers the long pink-haired girl staring at them in shock from the doorway. “WHY IS THERE A BLUE TIGER AND A BIRD WITH A HAT SITTING ON HIS HEAD IN YOUR BEDROOM?!”
Rumi, who had left the room to grab a snack just a few minutes ago, comes barreling down the hallway in a panic, the other girl who likes to put her short hair up in buns hot on her heels.
“That’s…just,” she pants, wide-eyed and panicked, “that’s just—“
“Jinu’s tiger!” squeals the bun-haired girl excitedly. “OMG! Where did he come from? Where did the bird come from? Wait, why does the bird have a hat? No, never mind, more importantly, what are they doing here? Can they even be here, with the Honmoon sealed? Does this mean that not all of the demons were sealed away?” she rambles before gasping, hands flying to her mouth in shock and what seems to be a wistful hope. “Do you think that they’re here because of Jinu?”
Rumi tries to shove past the pink haired girl and fails, the taller of the two blocking the way.
“Why are they here, Rumi?” she asks, hands twitching like they want to reach for a weapon. He looks to the bird, the bird rolls his eyes at him. Rude. With a huff, the bird hops forward and tilts his head, catching the pink-haired girl’s attention once more.
Rumi rushes forward and puts herself between them and the two other humans, voice stuttering and shaky. “They-they’re harmless, really, Mira. They just come to keep me company and…and to cheer me up,” she finishes in a whisper, eyes wide and body faintly trembling. He hates to see her like this, so unsure and tentative, just like she was when she spoke to Jinu about her patterns, so he nudges her hand with his head, offering silent comfort. Whatever happens next, he and the bird will be there for her. Besides, she shouldn’t worry about them; he can still teleport easily enough, and though he doesn’t look it, he has skills of his own.
The pink-haired girl, Mira he reminds himself now that he has a name, huffs and crosses her arms in the doorway. “That’s not what I asked Rumi. I can tell they’re harmless. That tiger looks derpy as heck and about as fierce as a house cat. Why are they here? In your room? Hiding?” In a softer voice, one tinged with the barest hint of hurt, she says, “I thought we said no more secrets.”
Rumi’s breath catches, her eyes fill with tears, and for a moment he’s afraid she’s about to start bawling. He steps in front of her slightly, a protective gesture that makes the bun-haired one coo softly, but to his relief Rumi doesn’t cry. Instead she smiles shakily and nods. “No more secrets,” she whispers, then squares her shoulders. “I wasn’t sure you would accept them,” she tells Mira, voice honest but soft, tentative, still slightly afraid but growing stronger. “It’s one thing that you guys have accepted me…but these two…” she looks at him and the bird then back to Mira and the other girl. “Well, these two are—“
“Cutie pies!” cries the bun-haired girl, with stars in her eyes, smile on her face. She shoots Mira a quick glance, Mira who is still standing in the doorway, arms crossed over her chest, looking unconvinced and upset. “Right, Mira?”
Mira looks at him, looks at the bird, looks at Rumi and sighs, releasing her arms and rolling her eyes. “Ugh, yes, fine, they’re cute, Zoey.”
The bun-haired girl, Zoey, beams at her and Rumi’s smile grows a little less tentative. “And they can totally stay here with us!” Zoey chimes again. “Demon or not, they’re clearly attached to you!”
Mira huffs but moves from the doorway to sit on Rumi’s bed. “Whatever. They seem to be fairly harmless. It’s not as if they’re stealing souls for Gwi-ma…Wait, they’re not right?” she asks, and Rumi shakes her head vigorously.
“No! Of course not!”
He looks at the bird and the bird looks at him and he’s suddenly grateful that since the Honmoon was sealed neither of them have needed to eat anyone. Thankfully, human food has been enough to sustain them and their powers aren’t locked the way Gwi-ma and the others had been. As demonic beasts they can draw from nature instead of human souls and he’s never been so thankful as now that that was the case.
Seeing them exchange glances, Rumi falters and looks down at him in concern. “You’re not…right?” her voice so tentative and hopeful but also fearful.
He huffs and rolls his eyes, then bumps his head against her hand in a friendly gesture. No, they’re not stealing souls or eating humans to survive.
Mira scoffs in disbelief but takes the sign as he meant it, Zoey coos and squeals again, and Rumi smiles softly at him in relief, petting his head in reward.
“Yeah, fine, they can stay,” Mira drawls, getting up off the bed to head towards the door. “But no more secrets, Rumi. Really. This had better be the last one, okay?”
Rumi nods. “Of course. I don’t think there’s anything else anyways.”
He’s tempted to head-bunt her again, tempted to exchange glances with the bird, for she holds Jinu’s soul and as such he can come back once he’s strong enough to, and that…that’s a fairly big secret to hold, but he resists. She’s not ready for that truth and neither are the other god-blessed girls. They’re not ready for the extent of Rumi’s powers, but that’s okay. For now, she’s been accepted and him and the bird along with her, and he can fulfill his duty to Jinu. He can stay by her side, a companion as he was to Jinu, and wait until his former master-friend recovers enough to reappear. He can wait for the day that the two souls will be made whole, and in the meantime he can provide comfort…and the bird can provide comedic relief at his expense, as he’s doing now. He narrows his eyes at the mocking bird who somehow knows what he was thinking and is rolling all six eyes at him yet again, and lets his tail twitch once in warning. The bird narrows his eyes in response but struts off like he owns the place. Warning not heeded, he pounces and misses, nearly crashing into Zoey instead of the bird. Then the chase is on, laughter and yells of “No, don’t!” following him down the hallways, as he races after the bird. “Derpy, stop!”
Derpy…no, he does not stop. It’s high time he and the bird got a tour of their new home, and what better way than in the pursuit of knocking the bird down a peg. He only skids to a stop when the bird lands on Rumi’s head, nearly bowling her over in the process, bird smirking down at him in victory. Bastard. One day…one day, I’ll get him…
“That’s enough,” Rumi gasps with laughter, Zoey, and Mira disheveled next to her on the couches in the living room. “That’s enough for now.”
Yes, enough for now, he concedes, noticing that Rumi’s patterns are glowing iridescently with joy and life. He sits down with a huff and lets himself be cajoled into cuddling with Zoey. Things are starting to look up.