Minseok let out a guttural groan as the frost aura (not magic, as insisted by Chen) puffed before petering out in his hands again. Chen cackled behind him, and Minseok turned to shoot him a dirty look.

“Glad to see my frustration is funny to you.”

“It is.”

Groaning again, he turned back to the old pillow he had dug out of his closet to use as a practice dummy. Chen had drawn a strangely realistic depiction of some creature from hell, complete with shading under its leathery bat wings, a thin mammalian snout tapered out of an S-shaped neck, and a scaly reptilian body resembling a buff Komodo dragon. When Minseok asked what it was, the demon only sneered and tossed him the pillow.

Now the creature glared back at him from an also old lawn chair while Minseok tried to make something come out of his hands. He had tried feeling his aura before starting, but the brick of ice stuck fast to being an immovable block. Chen told him to just use the power he felt and change it during the reabsorption like last time, so Minseok tried, and he was pretty sure that if he had closer neighbors, they would have knocked on his door asking him to stop his dying ogre impressions.

And of course, the demon had been laughing at him the whole time.

The demon gave the oh-so-helpful advice to ‘just command it’ and has since then been alternating between mocking him and playing with the feather wand. Minseok disapproved of destruction to vent out anger—he usually exercised out any pent-up rage, usually from rude clients—but just this once he considered making an exception to chuck the cat toy over the balcony.

After his throat started scratching in hoarseness, he took a break to drink water. He looked up at his wisteria tree and gave an inner squeal of affection seeing the side of Minerva’s little make-shift nest, the only source of joy to him at the moment. He didn’t have any trees thick enough for her to burrow into, so he had helped find leaves and such for the bottom bedding and then placed a plastic container with part of the side cut out for the top. After dusk, she would wake, and Minseok entertained them both with some small chatting while he did his best to take out the frost magic stuck in her.

Well, that was how Luna described it to him anyways. The angel explained that elemental magic often carried residual aura that would attach to other auras, and due to the oppositional nature of the elements and the general circumstance that any aura that got stuck to someone was intent to harm in the first place, the aura would stick and do harmful things to the other.

 Luna told him to practice sensing, then absorbing the magic, but also that just touching will draw out the magic slowly. He apparently had done that for Chen the first time when he was a kitty, which saved him when Hayong’s frost prevented him from healing. The angel also mentioned something about Minerva belonging to no element so there would be no clot, but she breezed right into concern about his offer to go to hell, so he didn’t have time to ask her about it.

He took Luna’s advice and over the past few trainings grasped the auras around him clearer and better. The foreign but familiar frost clinging in and around Minerva, the buzz and flow of Chen’s aura—he even felt the energy in objects, particularly in his plants and other living things.

Which also meant that the obstacle that was his own current source of power felt a hundred-times more of a jerk.

Minseok undoubtedly knew that Hayong would have had control over her power, but the question of how popped into his head more than once and less than calmly as he pushed and coaxed and shouted for the brick of ice to channel into his hands and blast the hell creature cushion. When the beginnings of a headache started to brew, he took another drink of water and sank into his daybed face first.

“The little manager is slacking.”

“I’m taking a break,” he mumbled out from the plushness.

Chen let out some disbelieving sound and leaned against the railing of balcony, at least that was Minseok’s guess from the clattering of pant chains. Minseok shifted onto his side and saw that he was right. That was all he intended on checking, but his eyes rested on the demon’s figure as Minseok blinked in his surroundings.

Instead of his usual leather jacket and pants, Chen wore a plain dark green shirt tucked into black jeans with his usual decoration of chains. The edges of summer still fried the air despite its last month already passing, making Minseok sticky with a thin layer of sweat. He didn’t get how Chen didn’t look hot or even sweaty and figured that it was a demon thing.

Turning his head before he got caught staring, Minseok found his gaze wandering back to Chen playing with the strings of the toy, and his thoughts strayed to his list of tasks and facts.

He certainly didn’t have a cat anymore, but every time Minseok passed by the dish bowl and bed in the living room, not a speck of fuzz or dust laid on the cat amenities. He never knew where the feather wand had gone unless he saw Chen playing with it, so the only conclusion from those pieces of evidence was that his assigned demon guard indeed liked his cat accommodations. Maybe Minseok could buy a scratching post…

Not to boost Chen’s ego with the idea that Minseok adored his little kitty form, but to ensure that his furniture wouldn’t suffer an early death. Or at least increase its chances anyway. It wasn’t as if Chen would turn into a cat on purpose since an angelic’s animal form was a last resort. But just in case, Minseok convinced himself.

He would see hell when he went to find the other end of the portal irregularity. Luna’s crash course over the dangers had him gulping down nervousness more than once, and Chen’s words of each of hell’s nine circles having over a thousand ways to kill him rang in his ears once the plan settled in his head. Nothing would make Minseok change his mind about helping out—he was the only person on their side who could walk a Hayong-specific portal, right?—and he would trust in Kai’s ability to get them out of any danger.

Minseok admitted to himself that it felt good to help instead of just being guarded all the time. That was mostly a nice bonus though. He wanted to help Yixing make some progress with his mission, and the more of Hayong’s plot that they pieced together, the closer they would be to rescuing the kidnapped souls.

Seeing as Kai was the one who brought up the portal irregularity, Minseok had lined up his persuading-Yixing techniques, starting with a phone call. Turned out that he didn’t have to go any further than that because his friend had given a resigned sigh before Minseok even started his reassurances. He was worried, but he gave Minseok the choice to help, and Minseok included a trip to a petting farm to cheer him up when everything was done.

In non-demon related news, NC Tech’s new building construction started soon. He would help direct the on-site organization of any waste materials, working with NC Tech and their chosen construction company to have smooth waste collection during and after the development. D.O would be there too, and managing the project until the last safety inspection. Minseok was just there for the first day or so to ensure everything started in order. He still had Horizon Malls to deal with.

Tasks all sorted in his head, Minseok shifted to his back to look at his plants, propping his head up with his arms. The recommended way of watering was to use drip irrigation pipes or from the bottom so that the risk of mold and overwatering minimized, but there was something therapeutic about filling the watering can and watching the shower cascade down. So Minseok compromised by watering only the soil from the top and just the right amount. That sadly did not stop a certain cat demon from pouncing on the hose and spraying the entire deck and Minseok. He (and his daybed) dried eventually, but droplets remained scattered over his plants, sparkling against the noon sky.

The soft expanse of blue created the perfect backdrop for his glistening plants, and the sight made Minseok sigh in appreciation. An image flashed in his mind, and an impulse, a small wish, followed: he wanted to see a snow shower, the kind that still sparkled under a cloudy sky. At first, Minseok waved the thought away, but then he thought again. Sun showers existed, the paradoxical sun and rain coexistence, and since he had demonic magic to spare and groan at, why couldn’t sun and snow do the same?

Sitting up, he set himself back into his daybed, feet flat on the floor, eyes closed, and looked within. The cold that breathed off the block of ice floated out, and Minseok gathered it into his hands. He only needed a medium-sized puff, but it had to be dense too, a concentration of cold to freeze the water vapor in the atmosphere and hopefully not the entire city. He wanted snow, so the cold had to find symmetry, delicateness, nature’s perfection. Create the crystals… and let them fall.

A rush flushed out of him, scattering, then swirling, as if gentle fingers prodded invisible wisps here and there. Minseok felt a soft brush, then a trail of water against his cheek, and he opened his eyes and gasped. He shot to his feet and ran to the railing, looking up to a blue sky and tiny white fluffs fluttering onto the city. He blinked once and twice, and the beautiful picture didn’t vanish like a mirage. It was real.

“Hmm. Not bad.”

He turned to the voice and saw the demon with his mildly impressed eyebrow raise. Chen looked up, holding his hand out, and he nodded.

“You didn’t command it to linger. The aura added to your own signature too.”

“I… made it snow? It worked?”

“Yeah.”

“Oh, my god. I did it. I did it! I made it snow!”

He jumped up and down, excitement and pride gushing through him, and he threw his hands up in a whoop, then held them out to catch the snow. He moved from one end of the railing to another and all but squealed when he saw the little puffs falling onto other building tops.

“Will has a lot to do with aura control. The fact that Hayong has an aura like an ice pillar doesn’t help your weak squishy humanness, and you seem averse to harming anything. You’re probably subconsciously holding back, which isn’t going to help you in a fight. Ugh. We’ll just work on something strictly defensive like a barrier since—”

Minseok leaned in close and tapped his fingers along the railing. The narrow space made his imprints look like birds had landed there, and he giggled at his own imagination. When Chen stopped speaking though, he did turn to look at the demon. He had been listening with just a little distraction, but Chen’s stare pulled him from the play. The demon didn’t react even after Minseok walked a bit closer.

“Since…?”

His eyes followed Minseok, but he wasn’t saying anything. Just watching. Weird. So he slipped the teaser wand from Chen’s hand and dashed the feathers across his nose. The demon immediately swiped at them, and Minseok jerked it away at the last second. He dangled it in different directions, and each time Chen darted out a hand to catch only a touch of the strings. After the sixth swipe-and-miss, Minseok’s grin sputtered out into a laugh.

 “I thought demons were supposed to be good at fighting, and so, have good reflexes.”

Minseok’s laugh pitched higher when appalment and indignation scrunched Chen’s face together. He finally had an edge to poke a few points against the demon. Then his laughter peaked into a squeak as the breath punched out of him and his back hit the cement.

Blinking, Minseok made a mini gasp at the entirely waaaay too close face of Chen. The demon’s smirk up-close let him see the exact detail of its curl, looking like a real cat’s. The palms pinning his chest and the abs radiated a warmth that made Minseok aware of everything, and his breath hitched, not just at the realization of their proximity but also because of how beauty struck him in a form that he was trying to forget—Chen’s irises held an amber halo.

“You smell excited.”

Minseok gulped and instantly regretted it when Chen’s eyes darted down to his neck.

“I— The snow! I’m excited by that.”

Chen hummed out a disbelieving sound and leaned closer, the smugness on his face stretching ten-fold.

“See? I have excellent reflexes. You couldn’t even stop me.”

“Anyone would be surprised from suddenly being tackled to the ground, especially for a teaser wand. If anything, you just proved that you’re definitely a cat.”

“I am a cat. You saw for yourself.”

Minseok looked at Chen again. His face held every embodiment of ‘duh, stupid human’ in it, and he was sure that if the demon were actually in kitty form, his tail would be high above them to further prove his point.

“Oh. I thought that you would take that less as a compliment. Or a fact.”

“I wasn’t bothered by that. I was bothered by your accusation of me not having any skill.”

“Well, I haven’t seen you fight now that I think about it, so I wouldn’t know. But when I said that, I was just joking.”

“Joking? Oh, those things. Kai tells me the word ones that he picked up from the humans. Are you doing the same thing?”

“Yeah, I guess. It’s playful banter, like playfighting with words. No harm intended, just a little poke at your habits or ego.”

Chen narrowed his eyes, and Minseok laughed at the instant pissy kitty he gained.

“Can you actually smell me? Like a cat or dog can? Is that a demon and angel thing?”

“Demons tend to have better senses than angels because we’re hunters and trained to focus on fighting, but an angel could probably sense more than a human. Yours truly was raised by hell tigers, so of course, I have a better everything than you.” He paused, then shook his head slightly, like he changed his mind about his next words. “If you’re asking if what we shift into influences our usual form, then yes and no. It depends on the person.”

“Do you know what the others can turn into?”

“Duh. It’d be hard to work as a team if we didn’t know something as basic as that.”

“What are they then? Is Yixing a sheep?”

He snickered at the thought and when Chen rolled his eyes.

“Ask them yourself.”

The snow was fluttering down onto the crown of Chen’s head, and Minseok lifted a hand, then stopped. The demon probably didn’t want Minseok to touch him despite the body-slamming. At least Chen hadn’t seen his awkward movement because the demon looked down and started drawing his hands across Minseok’s chest. Warmth seeped through his shirt as Chen’s palms alternated in pressing back and forth across his muscles, and Minseok almost relaxed against the massage until he saw Chen watching him from the corner of his eye.

Freezing, feeling caught, Minseok felt his breath stutter in his lungs when the demon pressed a little harder and forced him relaxed again. He was going to get up—he really was—but the heat from the demon’s body, the motions easing apart his tension, and the puffs of their breath floating against the blue sky lulled him into a drowse.

It was only after some huffing noise from Chen, half-way between a cough and a throaty sneeze, that some rational part of Minseok’s mind managed to remember that even if he wanted to get up, Chen would have to get up first. He cleared his own throat in attempt to wake himself.

“Can you get off me now?”

“Why? I can tell that you like it.”

Minseok knew that he was taunting him, and he did his best to deadpan the demon with a look, but the sleepiness just made him squint.

“We have stuff to do. You know, defence magic to learn so I don’t get shish-kabobbed?”

Chen tilted his head, then looked out over the balcony, where the clear sky continued to shower snow onto the probably confused city.

“I had never seen snow fall from a blue sky.”

“Mm. Me neither.”

The demon whipped his head back to him, and his blank stare, the one that waited for an explanation, shook Minseok out of his dreamland.

“It’s pretty rare for snow to fall from a blue sky naturally,” Minseok explained.

“Then why were you smiling in that photo?”

“What photo?”

“The one in your bottom drawer, with the mountains and lake.”

Minseok didn’t have to think to know which picture Chen meant. The skin along his forearms prickled.

“You looked through my stuff?”

 “I was a cat still and bored.”

He sighed and dropped his head back. The snow poked his face in cold teases, prodding. Minseok thought that they were the reason his throat tightened and not the painful words clambering out of his mouth.

“My brother took that picture. We had gone on a family vacation to Canada to see some mountains and lakes. He said that he wanted to vlog the whole trip and… he was really happy. Our parents also looked stress-free for the first time in a long while.”

The words started to coil, scraping the walls of his larynx, so Minseok bit his tongue and tried to swallow the rest. He had explained the necessities to Chen. His job was done, and he moved to push the demon off him before he could insult him for his pathetic human feelings. That wasn’t something he could play off as banter right now. But Chen didn’t budge.

“How come you didn’t say whether you were happy or not?”

“That doesn’t really matter, does it?”

“Tch. Humans always find a way to talk about themselves.” Chen snorted, breath clouding under his nose. “At least demons boast about something that they actually achieved. Humans just yap either about something that they took all the credit for or about something not worth anyone’s time… so why don’t you ever do that?”

His brother’s words echoed in his head, whispering the answer. Minseok needed to run. The curtains were falling over him, and he couldn’t let them drape over him here in front of Chen. He shoved the demon back by the shoulders, but Chen barely moved from Minseok’s actions, only shifting to pin Minseok’s wrist back into the cement with one hand. The other drew over his chest again, the warmth soothing and searing.

“Why’re you afraid?”

Minseok broke out of the curtains long enough to recognize Chen’s odd question and his curiosity. This close to him, it probably was no wonder that Chen could feel or smell the rising panic shaking Minseok, but he didn’t seem to understand why. That made sense because Minseok had never explained why. He thought that he wouldn’t ever have to.

“You know that I’m not going to hurt you. You’re my guardee, unfortunately. Is something going to hurt you? Where? Are they looking down on me and thinking that I can’t guard one little human?”

But if Chen needed to know the difference between his body’s fear of harm and his mind’s fear of himself, then Minseok wouldn’t blame the demon for his persistence. Rationality stated an explanation as necessary. His brother’s voice sneered at his selfishness. The falling snow nudged him to admit his desire, selfish or not.

“No—no, it’s not like that. I know you won’t hurt me. It’s just me, something I… can’t stop remembering. I did things I wasn’t supposed to. Small things—I thought that I was helping and caring… but I wasn’t. Now they haunt me.”

“Are they ghosts? Because I can get rid of those.”

“No, they’re in my head. In my memories.”

“Then just forget them.”

“I can’t.”

“Why not?”

His arms itched to reach for the other and etch down the old grooves left by his brother, but they could only twitch under Chen’s hold. His body drew in. Hands, warmth, and cold forgotten, but his mouth didn’t follow the rest of him, pushing words out.

“They hurt too much to forget them. Even if I could choose to forget, I’d feel guilty. If they torment me, then at least it feels like I’m making it up to them.”

The pressure loosened over his arm, and Minseok shot up, shoving the demon away. Scrabbling to his daybed, Minseok got as far as hooking his elbows into the seats before his strength drained. The usually soft fabric covering chafed against his skin as he trembled, as his nails dragged up his arms, over his shoulders, along the back of his neck and scalp. It stung even more so in the cold, and maybe the abnormal sting was what made him remember the aura that created it and the demon who praised his efforts.

“Can you leave me alone?”

He flinched at the cracks in his voice and how his question turned into a plea. Anticipation thrummed in his skull for the scoff or the sneer or even the quiet exasperated sigh, but none came. He reached to grip the vibrations still, but they only silenced at the rattle of the garden door. The sound made him let out the breath he had been holding, and the next inhale tightened in his chest.

~~~~~

Kim Minseok was avoiding him.

Which was stupid since Chen had to guard the little human.

He was only (finally) in the same room as him for longer than thirty seconds or a car drive because his guardee had to lead some construction for the vampire and werewolf’s company, and the ‘room’ was actually a plot of land where Chen stood at the edge to not be in the midst of scurrying humans or in a small outpost that was the workers’ break space.

For almost a week after the snow shower, Kim Minseok either ignored him to do his work, spoke only in short sentences that needed no reply, or escaped to his garden balcony. He probably felt the safest there, and, after he had kicked Chen out from the space, Chen didn’t think that he was allowed back.

It wasn’t that he cared if the human let him in or not—Chen would go anywhere he pleased—but the fear in Minseok’s eyes and curdling his scent had been real. Minseok himself said that he knew that Chen wouldn’t hurt him, but now an annoying twinge in Chen’s chest was scolding him to not approach. He had made the human relaxed so that he could pry out a few more of his secrets, but he didn’t mean to make Minseok afraid of him, physically or otherwise.

And Chen didn’t get what he meant when he said his fear came from something in his memories. That bothered him more than anything because then Chen wouldn’t be able to rend it apart for obstructing his chances with his prey. After all, why would someone want to torment themselves? There was no pleasure or gratification or reward in this punishment-punisher relation of just Kim Minseok. At least in psychological torturing, there were two people, and the punishment was clear. Who was the other party? His dead family? His memories?

The human said that he could at least feel as if he was making ‘it’ up to them—what did he do to feel obligated to punish himself after his family was gone and probably living it up in the afterlife? He said that he would feel guilty if he chose to forget about them, but most souls after hell’s Purgatory or heaven’s trials lived without consideration of the past or those who they left behind. That was generally part of the deal to get a spot in one of heaven’s rings: repent and forget. There was no way that the human would know that, but still—he was fine with just pretending that someone was tracking his pain and givi