I sighed, massaging my neck as I rotated it, stretching my muscles. I pulled from my pocket a piece of paper and laid it on my desk. A piece of paper that now had my name on it. The contract with Mr. Demon. Well, my Mr. Demon now I guess. Not exactly anything to boast about. Thankfully, my grandmother left the house a little while before I got back home in order to spend the night with my grandfather at the hospital. This meant I didn’t have to explain exactly what happened to him nor why Blondie was following behind me. Then again, how much did she know about what he did in that old shrine? Did she know everything or nothing? Again, I decided to wait until tomorrow to learn more about Blondie.

Speaking of that particular devil, a sudden hissing noise caused me to turn around to find him wincing as he held onto his finger. He shot a glare at me as though this were all my fault. All my fault that he had burned himself. On what? On the same piece of paper I had just put down on my desk. He couldn’t touch it apparently. If he destroyed it, the contract saying that he was “my” Mr. Demon would be null and void. That’s all I heard from my grandfather yesterday despite not caring if the guy actually did go and do it; if only he were able to. It would have made it that much easier to go back to normal life with crybaby Sehun and pretend this never happened.

I could destroy it. Sure. Yet, face my grandfather’s wrath for doing so afterward? Yeah, no thanks. I’m settling for seeing what he says tomorrow.

On another note, I completely forgot to mention, if it weren’t obvious already, that Mr. Demon is indeed in my room at this very moment. Whilst the idea of being pinned to the front door because he was too far away from me whilst I was inside was tempting to say the least, I didn’t exactly want the neighbors to start spreading rumors.

Though the cons of bringing him inside are starting to overwhelm the pros. Mostly because he had now made it his mission to start investigating things. Specifically my underwear drawer. I quickly walked over and shut it, making him have to retract his fingers before they were smashed between the wood. He smiled that gum-showing smile my way, his dark eyes reflecting in them that playfulness that was starting to become his signature look in my mind, “Top drawer, huh? Maybe you’re not as prudish as I thought.”

This guy just has no inhibitions. I wanted to smack him outright. But for some reason, I felt like that would only serve to entertain him more than he was now. As though he looked right through me, his smile got wider and he reached upwards, pushing back my forehead with his forefinger.

“Why don’t you calm down, you violent woman you,” he grinned in satisfaction at the annoyed look I shot back at him. This damn devil. I was definitely right in not hitting him. His lips would probably rip at the corners from how far they would stretch if I did. “I was looking for your calligraphy set. You have one don’t you?”

I did have one. Yes. But what did he want with it?

“Get it for me, would you? It’ll give me something to do tonight.” He breathed out and took a seat down on top of my desk, as far away from the contract as possible, as though he owned the place. And that tail of his waved back and forth in contentment and what can I say? It was too easy.

I grabbed onto it again and pulled down on it, causing him to groan as he went fumbling to the floor again. At least that proves that it hurts him, even if that pain comes from him hitting the ground.

“What exactly do you plan on doing?” I asked as I walked over to my closet and pulled it open, looking upwards for a box. A box which contained my calligraphy set. The one I used every summer when my grandfather made me practice it with him.

He spoke back through clenched teeth, “Well, unless you plan on making a tribute, I don’t see what else I’m supposed to do while you drift off into dreamland tonight.”

I decided to ignore that tribute thing again because I still had no idea what he was talking about. And that look in his eyes when he said it made me not want to.

A few questions may be going through a sane person’s mind right now. Such as, there’s a demon in your room that is going to be there while you sleep? Or, are you even sane yourself?

All legitimate questions. Especially considering his history of ogling women’s legs and searching through underwear drawers. Call me crazy, but right as I opened the front door of the house and contemplated the same question from earlier, whether or not I would let him inside, he told me that he wouldn’t do anything. He seemed to lose that playful look in his eyes when he said it. And even if it was partly because he didn’t want to be stuck rammed up against the door of the house all night, he actually sounded sincere.

Psh, like hell I’d trust that though.

So am I sane? Oh yes. Yes, I very well am.

A sane person with a plan.

“There’s dust.” I commented as I pulled the box down from the high shelf it was on. I never bothered to dust the darn thing off. Not until summer rolled around anyway. “There’s a duster downstairs.” I started walking towards the door of my room and turned to him. He groaned at the fact that he had to get up from his comfortable position on the carpeted floor, the position he was forced into because of me. He followed me out of the room, an exasperated expression on his face.

Then, a second later, he questioned my actions. “Why do you have to go downstairs with the box?” He asked, pointing to it disdainfully as he raised his eyebrows at me.

My lips parted in realization and I put the box down, “Right. I don’t have to, do I?” My words were drawn out, lasting much longer than hey had to as I hung on each syllable I uttered. He didn’t seem to get it, my sudden change in attitude. As he shouldn’t. “Hold on, let me get something.” He leaned against the wall of the hallway as I went into the room again, his eyes on me in a scrutinizing manner.

And if only I could see the look on his face when I pivoted on my heel and shut the door, locking it immediately afterwards, I would have been able to appreciate the action so much more.

There was silence for a moment. Silence before I heard him laugh. Laugh that boisterous laugh as he stood on the other side of the door.

“You’re a clever one, aren’t you?”The next morning, when I opened the door of my bedroom so that I could get ready to go see my grandfather, I came face to face with Blondie. And he was not at all angry. No. He looked amused. Much more than I would have at all liked.

“I have to say, I should have expected it.” He said, talking once more as though he were my closest friend, “Your obvious acting may have fooled me this time, but next time, I can promise you it won’t.” His eyes fell from my face, scanning over my pajama-clad body. No, I was not wearing revealing pajamas. I was wearing a shirt and a pair of pants. A combination he found to be hilarious because he broke out into that devil’s spawn, gum-showing smile of his, “And next time, I will most definitely try something if you attempt to trick me again.”

His foot kicked something into my room, the box with my calligraphy materials inside.

“I dusted it for you. My hands work just as well as any duster apparently. You’re welcome.” He smirked and his heel, making room for me to exit. And again, again that tail was dangling from his body. And I found that like a habit, my foot went to it immediately, causing him to go crashing down.

“What?” I asked, not sure I heard right.

“There are five more who I want you to find,” my grandfather spread out five pieces of paper in front of me. All different from Bang Yongguk’s in some way or another. One was a post it, a simple pink sticky note whose stickiness had long since dried out. The second looked like a piece of notebook paper, folded so that I couldn’t see its contents. The third was what looked like a piece of paper ripped out of a book. A poetry book. The fourth was a little like Yongguk’s yet the paper looked more modern. Newer. The fifth was a post card. A post card with a picture of the Namsan Tower on it. “And when you do, I want you to sign your name on these pieces of paper, the one that belongs to them, in front of them with the appropriate writing tool based on the contract itself. The same way you did with Bang Yongguk.”

“Them?” Said demon in question sounded amazed at my grandfather. “Exactly when did you have time to go around gathering this stuff?” He made it sound as though such pieces of paper took work to acquire. I didn’t say a word, not wanting to miss a single detail of my grandfather’s next words as he once more ignored the demon’s comments.

“Some are demons and some are spirits. The spirits should be easier to tame and I would recommend finding them first but,” his eyes went to Mr. Demon who was still looking down at the pieces of paper that lay on the table that stretched over his hospital bed, “Bang Yongguk would know better who to go to first. So he’ll help you with the order, along with where to find them.”

I wanted to ask why. Why in the world was I doing such a thing? “Grandpa-”

I was cut off as he spoke again, his tone reprimanding, “Find them first, then I’ll tell you what to do from there.”

Well, he certainly wasn’t telling me anything and I couldn’t exactly count on Blondie to tell me anything either. So what else could I do now? Looks like I would be turning down Sehun’s plans to meet today again.

Yongguk gathered the papers into his hand, being able to touch “contracts” that were not his own apparently, his own being safely secured in between two math text books at my house. Who wants to read statistics for fun, after all?

Yongguk spoke again, drawing me out of my thoughts, “What have you gotten yourself into old man?”

Better yet, exactly what have I gotten myself into?