Sooyoung had been looking for a girl dressed in the typical antisocial teenager outfit. Black beanie, hoodie, skinny jeans and that’s when she realized her mistake, after walking around the entire park for twenty minutes. At 6 am no less, barely awake.  

 

Jungeun was fifteen and stuck in her My Chemical Romance phase when she last saw her. Seeing that there is no one dressed in all black in her vicinity, Sooyoung concludes that Jungeun at the age of 21 has grown out of blasting Welcome to the Black Parade on repeat. 

 

She scans her surroundings again, this time specifically looking for a short girl with a long face and square shoulders. Some very sharp shoulders. 

 

It doesn’t take her long to spot said girl. There, sitting on the bench under the tree’s shade. Wearing a mundane outfit.        

 

A gray t-shirt with muddy stains, dark blue jeans, and well-worn browning white Vans. Topped off with a pair of cheap sunglasses. It's like the Jungeun she knew had been replaced with a boring suburban woman who eats dinner at five and goes to bed at ten. No one would suspect the girl had been a top-ranking demon slayer. 

 

Jogging over, her thoughts easily slip out. "Who replaced the emo teen with the grandma of suburbia?"

 

The shorter girl scowls, fist raised at her side then slipping down again, scratching her pants. As if the owner had no clue whether it would be appropriate to hit someone you used to know, someone you were once close with, like sisters born from different mothers, but you haven't talked to each other in six years. At least that's what Sooyoung thinks it is. 

 

Overthinking aside, maybe Jungeun just had an itch to scratch. The fist-clenching sort. 

 

"I haven't seen you in a while and that's the first thing you say to me?" says Jungeun. Sooyoung shrugs, sitting down. The scowl deepens further and there’s the Jungeun she knows. “You’re twenty minutes late, care to explain?" 

 

"Nope.” 

 

“I’m only doing this because Haseul forced me to,” the other girl grumbles under her breath. Those words. Haseul forced me to. Sooyoung tamps down her irritation, but it inevitably spills out anyway.  

 

“You don’t do anything around here without Haseul meddling, huh.”  

 

“What’s that supposed to mean? ” Jungeun is giving her the look. That awful scowl along with the knit brows. 

 

“Forget about it. I shouldn’t piss off a cop.” The look intensifies. On a scale of 1 to 10, she has ed up and landed over 9000 in the red. There’s only one appropriate course of action. 

 

Sooyoung raises her arms, pretending to cower in fear. 

 

“Why can’t you think before speaking,” says Jungeun bluntly.

 

"My therapist tells me I shouldn't feel bad about being passive-aggressive, she thinks it's my coping mechanism."  

 

"Jiwoo thought that too. I just think you’re full of .” 

 

"Speaking of Jiwoo, how's she doing, living the life of a world-famous influencer?" asks Sooyoung. The other girl's face hardens, different from the playful air from before. Sooyoung mentally kicks herself in the head. 

 

There are some things she can joke around about, dancing between barely crossing the line and blatantly stepping over it. Apparently Jiwoo is not one of them.  

 

"She ran off a week after the demon attack. Said she couldn't handle it."

 

Jiwoo leaving, running away, that's a stunt expected of Sooyoung. And leaving Jungeun behind? Maybe Sooyoung didn't know her friends as well as she thought. 

 

"You wouldn't have known since you disappeared to 'find yourself' a few days before she left. I'm over it now." Jungeun waves her hand dismissively, tension leaving, no sign of awkwardness lingering. 

 

“I'm not going to reminisce with you over old gossip. So here's the deal. Last week, there was a demon attack at a house not far from where you live," says Jungeun. “No survivors, except for a seventeen year-old girl.”

 

“Where do I come in?”

 

“The girl has been in the foster care system her whole life and her new foster parents of two weeks have just been murdered. She’s stubborn, almost eighteen, and refuses to be placed with another family.” Gear running in her head, Sooyoung can see where this is going. 

 

“No.”

 

“Yes. We’re going to pull some strings, throw cash at the right higher-ups, and have you become her legal guardian. It’ll only be temporary. For about three months.”

 

Sooyoung shakes her head, standing up. “One, since when did you care about poor little orphans. And two, you’re crazy, does Haseul know?” 

 

“We wouldn’t be meeting if she knew. Really, don’t you want to help the girl out? You know what it’s like in foster care,” says Jungeun. Coaxing, pleading. 

 

“Yeah. This screams illegal. I’m out.” Sooyoung is about to walk away, but Jungeun shouts after her. 

 

“The girl has assets, she has promised to pay you once she’s an adult.” Sooyoung stops. 

 

“She’s filthy rich. Dead wealthy parents from a demon attack when she was a baby. Left her everything.” Sooyoung sits back down. 

 

“Okay. I’m listening, you got me at ‘filthy.’”

 

“All you have to do is become her reclusive globe-trotting aunt that has just returned to the country. You’ve decided to settle down and take care of your pitiful niece,” says Jungeun, voice lowering. 

 

“Mm-hm.” 

 

“This is between me, you, and the girl.” Jungeun’s eyes dart around, making sure no one else is within the vicinity. Sooyoung can’t care less, it’s too early in the morning; she can only see one or two people doing their morning jog on the path, far away from their location. 

 

Honestly, there’s a higher chance that Sooyoung will start listening to country music for the rest of her life than someone else in the park finding out what they’re up to.  

 

“And the big-wigs you’re bribing, the court,” Sooyoung adds.

 

“Yes, Sooyoung, and the court. Above all, the police can’t catch wind of this.” 

 

“You’re a cop, you realize that, right?” Harsh smacks on her arm. “Remind me why you’re a cop again?” It just doesn’t make sense to Sooyoung, why would Jungeun become the very thing she had once sworn to destroy. Teenage Jungeun was notorious for screaming and cursing at the police. Yelling ‘all cops are bastards’ while running from arrest. 

 

“I haven’t forgotten what the police have done to us, outlawing demon slaying and the Corps itself, but at the end of the day, it’s a job. It pays rent,” says Jungeun. 

 

There’s the difference between Haseul and Jungeun. One of them sees it as an avenue to shooting demons legally and the other wants a quick paycheck. She’s not sure who’s worse. 

 

Jungeun glances at her watch, “My shift starts soon. You don’t need to tell me an answer right now–”

 

“But you need to go. Got it. I’ll text you later tonight.” 

 

“Just think about it, alright? The girl isn’t a bad kid, she’s just one of us. She won’t be hard to handle.” Dumbfounded, Sooyoung stays seated, watching Jungeun’s retreating figure jogging to the distant parking lot.

 

---

 

The fan in the corner splutters, jamming briefly, then whirs again. Spinning and spinning, practically useless against the suffocating air. There are no windows and with the door closed, the small room is virtually a sauna. Minus all the fancy amenities. 

 

Two squeaky yellow plastic chairs are placed in the middle. All too small for the women occupying them. 

 

Sooyoung nods as she listens to her therapist ramble on. “I met a cat outside today, it was so cute! I wanted to take it home, but I have too many pets at home. Another one would be too much.” 

 

Sometimes she wonders who’s the therapist and who’s the patient. Then again, she did sign up for discount sessions so she shouldn’t expect much.

 

It is weird though, how her therapist insists on wearing a mask. A new one for every session; last time it was Guy Fawkes, today it’s the plague doctor. “Sooyoung, how’s your day going?” Doesn’t it get hot under there? “Sooyoung?” She’d be sweating buckets if it was her. 

 

“You with me?”

 

Snapping out of her thoughts, shifting her focus back onto the woman. “What? My day?”

 

“Yeah. How’d it go? Anything happen?” Something’s off. Then it clicks in her mind. 

 

“Your voice. You’re not changing your voice today,” says Sooyoung. 

 

“I figured being impersonal was a bad approach. I’m trying to change things up!” replies her therapist. Peppy and high-pitched. Borderline screeching. 

 

Sooyoung can’t quite remember, she can’t exactly place it, but her voice is familiar. She can’t connect the name and the face to the voice yet, it’s beyond her, just out of her grasp. 

 

“You remind me of someone. The way you talk is really similar, but it’s probably a coincidence.”

 

“Yeah, a coincidence. So,” her therapist claps her hands together, “want to share what’s new? You called me out of the blue for a session.” 

 

There wasn’t a particular reason for it. She had wanted to talk to someone who wasn’t Haseul or Jungeun, to run through her thoughts together. She had no one else to turn to except for her therapist. Who likely printed her license off the internet. 

 

After every session, she questions why she’s paying a random stranger $30 for half an hour of listening to interesting and obscure animal facts. She’s learned a whole lot (snails can sleep up to three years). 

 

The bottom line being: How sad can she get? This is a new low for her. 

 

“An old friend offered me a job. Should I take it?” muses Sooyoung. 

 

“What is it?” Words stalling, caught in , she hasn’t thought this far. She can’t tell a stranger the truth. “Um. Babysitting. I’m babysitting uh– a troubled teen.” The seventeen year-old does sound troubled, orphans and demons have never been a good combination. Sooyoung can personally attest to that.   

 

A loud squeal pierces her ears. “Take it!”

 

Sooyoung winces, “I heard the pay is good.” 

 

“What are you waiting for?”

 

“I don’t… I don’t know. It might not be a good idea.” There are millions of ways Jungeun’s plan can blow up in her face. She lands herself in jail frequently, but if something goes wrong, she’ll land in court first before going to jail.

 

At least when she goes straight to jail, she doesn’t have to pay. That’s already a plus. 

 

“Didn’t you say you were unemployed?” 

 

“I can stay unemployed for a little while longer,” she replies. 

 

“Didn’t you also mention your roommate intends to kick you out? If you don’t get a job?”

 

“She says that almost everyday. Actually, she might follow through.” Sooyoung shrugs. She’s pretty sure Haseul will throw her out. 

 

“Okay. Then are there other options?” There’s the obvious. Not that she’ll ever take it. 

 

Her therapist points at the sword hanging at her waist. “You’re an ex-demon slayer, I’m sure you’d make a great cop.” 

 

Releasing a pronounced sigh, Sooyoung slouches further down.  

 

“I’m an otaku who enjoys carrying fake PVC foam swords around. I also can’t run a hundred metres without gasping like a dying fish.” Technically, the second one is true when she’s not using Flame Breathing. 

 

The other woman’s eyes roll, making a show of it.  

 

“You’re absolutely right and I’m a therapist!” 

 

“I’m not sure if I want that to be sarcasm or not.” 

 

“Sooyoung, I’m saying this as a casual observer doubling as a friend, not a therapist now. Yes, your roommate is an , but you’ve been an even bigger the past few months. You can’t freeload forever.” 

 

Sooyoung opens , ready to protest. 

 

“Don’t talk yet, I’m not done. I get that you don’t have many options left. I’ll simplify this and say it once.” Her therapist leans forward, grabbing onto her shoulders. Staring straight into her soul. 

 

“Take. The. Babysitting. Job.”

 

 Calloused hands move to grip her cheeks, forcing her to nod several times. 

 

---

 

Coming out of the community centre, the light cool breeze tousling her hair, Sooyoung stretches her arms, relieved to be outside again. Closing her eyes, reopening them, enjoying her mind clearing a bit more. 

 

She’s convinced she should accept Jungeun’s offer, it’ll free her from Haseul’s exasperation and she’ll be able to sleep with a roof over her head. Is there anything else better than it at the moment? 

 

During her teenage years, she spent every waking hour training, fighting demons. It’s all she knows, it’s her world. Sustaining bruises, wiping at tears, she memorized the weak spots of various demon types. Her body was honed to its peak physical potential, capable of sustaining heavy blows, agile enough to evade multiple attacks simultaneously. She could wield a sword better than 99% of the population. 

 

The fact that it suddenly wasn’t her world anymore, it killed her inside. She was so confused and conflicted that she ran. Unable to come to terms with reality, she took off the day after the attack. 

 

Everyone has their own way of coping and Sooyoung is well aware she should’ve stayed, to help support her friends and bear their burdens together. 

 

She was set on being a demon slayer. She didn’t have any other special skills, she didn’t even go to highschool. The worst case scenario came for her, crashing and barreling and she couldn’t cope. 

 

Through the years, it feels like everyone has moved on, that society has progressed past needing, relying on demon slayers. She’s not certain about the others, but Haseul and Jungeun have definitely gotten over it now. 

 

They’re living new lives while she’s stuck in her pathetic fantasy. Skulking on the streets, chasing after demons, ignoring the law, the police arresting her every week. 

 

God. She even knows which bathroom stalls at the police station are always out of toilet paper.  

 

Truthfully, she is sick and tired of it. She’d been thinking of stopping, finally putting away her katana for good. Except Jung Jinsol had to come back, throwing her into confusion once more. 

 

Knowing the girl is in the same city as her, protecting and stringing a demon along, her blood boils for revenge.   

 

---

 

There’s one more thing left to do. She sends Jungeun a quick text. 

 

Sooyoung: I’m in. I’ll do it. 

 

Jungeun: took you forever

AN: I had this chapter written months ago when I was hyped up by the opening of the anime, but it didn’t feel right so I kept editing. Sorry for the long wait.