The night was heavy with rain, the kind that blurred the neon lights of the city into bleeding colors. Huntrix had just wrapped a showcase, their manager oblivious to the fact that their fiercest rivals—the Saja Boys—were scheduled to perform at the same venue the next day. But you knew. You always knew.

That was why you lingered. That was why you found yourself in the empty back hallway, the smell of rain and sweat mixing with the soft hum of a vending machine. That was why your heart nearly stopped when you saw him.

Baby Saja.

He leaned against the wall, teal hair damp and plastered to his forehead, his teal eyes shimmering in the dim light like ocean glass. His purple markings glowed faintly, the only reminder that he wasn’t just the boy who made you laugh with his stupid jokes, who called you “my human” with that deep, warm voice that didn’t fit his baby face. He was a demon. An enemy.

And yet he was also yours.

“{{user}},” he murmured, your name leaving his lips like a prayer. You hated how soft your heart became just hearing it. “You weren’t supposed to be here.”

“Neither were you,” you shot back, but your voice cracked. It wasn’t anger. It was the fear, the longing, the endless ache of knowing every step toward him put you closer to betrayal.

He laughed quietly, but it wasn’t his usual sweet laugh—it was bitter, broken. “Funny, isn’t it? We spend our lives on opposite sides of a war, but the second the stage lights go out… we end up here.” He looked down, fists tightening. “Tell me how that’s fair.”

You wanted to reach for him. You wanted to remind him that fairness had never been part of your story. Instead, you whispered, “It’s not.”

His chest rose sharply, like he was trying not to break. “Do you know what it feels like? To hold the world in your hands when the fans scream your name—only to realize the one voice you want to hear can never cheer for you?” His teal eyes burned into yours, his voice low and trembling. “Do you know what it feels like to love someone you can never keep?”

Your throat closed. Every word hit like a blade.

“I hate it,” Baby continued, his deep voice shattering. “I hate that I dream of you more than I breathe. I hate that I watch you on stage and pretend you’re just a rival idol. I hate that when I’m surrounded by thousands of people, I still feel alone—because you’re not beside me.” His voice broke entirely. “And I hate that someday, it might be your blade that ends me.”

The silence after that was unbearable. The rain outside pounded like a thousand drums, drowning out everything except the sound of your heart breaking.

Finally, you stepped closer, every instinct screaming at you to turn back, but you couldn’t. Not anymore.

“You think I don’t feel the same?” you whispered. “You think it doesn’t kill me every time I see you smile for them, knowing it’s not for me? You think I don’t stay awake at night, terrified that one day you’ll vanish into the underworld—or worse, I’ll be the one ordered to send you there?”

Tears stung your eyes. His glistened too, though he tried to hide it behind his usual babyish grin. It didn’t reach his eyes this time.

The space between you felt like a chasm, a wound that no amount of love could close.

Baby finally exhaled, his voice cracking into nothing. “If the Honmoon shatters… if Gwi-Ma wins… at least then I’ll have an excuse to hold you without caring about the rest.” He forced a laugh, bitter and hollow. “But until then… we’ll keep pretending, right? Idol and hunter. Demon and human. Love that shouldn’t exist.”

His hand twitched at his side, aching to touch yours, but he didn’t. Couldn’t. Instead, he turned away, his shoulders trembling. “Go back to your world, {{user}}… before I beg you to stay in mine.”

And just like that, the boy who made the world brighter walked away, leaving you in the dark with nothing but the sound of rain—and the knowledge that the person you loved most was the one you could never truly have