It had been a relentless week—back-to-back performances, rehearsals that bled into late nights, and a whirlwind of flashing lights and screaming fans. Two years had passed since you joined HUNTR/X, and though Rumi, Mira, and Zoey had been there to guide you through the chaos of idol life, the pressure still pressed heavy on your shoulders.

One evening, sprawled across the infamous “discussion couch,” the four of you reached a unanimous decision—you needed a break. A pool day. Sun, water, and at least a few hours without the demands of cameras or choreography.

Only problem? The hotel’s pool was public—for residents, anyway. Which should have been fine. Should being the key word.

⸻

You told yourself it would be fine the entire walk there, silently willing fate to give you a break. But the moment you stepped into the pool area, your stomach sank.

Of course. The Sajaboys were already there.

It was almost comical—like they had some secret tracker on you. Abby and Romance were splashing in the water, playing some ridiculous game you couldn’t quite decipher. Meanwhile, Jinu and Baby were locked in an immature but oddly determined struggle to shove Mystery into the deep end. So childish.

You chose the obvious survival strategy: ignore them and hope they returned the favor.

Your group claimed a row of lounge chairs positioned perfectly in the sunlight. Towels were laid out, sunglasses pushed up, and conversations flowed easily… for about thirty seconds. That’s when it happened—your eyes met Jinu’s across the pool.

Big mistake.

His lips curved in that infuriating smirk as he pointed you out to the rest of the Sajaboys. Fantastic. Just what you needed.

To distract yourself, you made for the snack and drink bar, taking orders for water and finger food. You busied yourself with payment, determined not to look back.

And yet…

You felt him before you saw him—a shift in the air, a presence that prickled along your skin. You turned slightly, and there he was. Jinu. Of course it was Jinu.

He was close enough now for details to jump out—the black swim trunks patterned with deep purple designs that, to any bystander, looked like an edgy fashion choice. But to a hunter? Those intricate shapes were unmistakably demonic sigils. Subtle to the untrained eye, but screamingly obvious to yours.

“Are you guys following us or something?” His voice carried a lazy, teasing drawl. “You’re always right where we are.”

That smirk tugged at his lips, sharp and knowing, as he stepped closer. His gaze dipped down toward you, but his chin tilted high, like he was daring the world to think he wasn’t already in control.