Three feet in length. Thin and slender in its placid grace. 

 

The snake coils around her father's shoulder, moving lazily. Scales paler than snow, a visual contrast to the bleak grays of her father’s office. 

 

Jungeun stays still because that is what is expected. She gazes directly into the serpent's yellow eyes. For a second. “Jungeun.” Her attention returns to her father.

 

Wearing a crisp black suit, there are no muscles to accent though that isn’t necessary. He is commanding regardless. From how he stands, how he holds himself, her father carries a domineering aura. Refined, calculating and sharp.  

 

The snake hisses, coiling tighter, but not enough to make her father's hands scramble to his neck. Light pressure, there's an unseen fine balance.

 

And Jungeun has once again failed to find it.

 

"Do not tell lies to appease me." A light warning as it stands. It is the love he has for her restraining the snake from striking. He takes a step towards her, the snake extends even closer, forked tongue flicking, within reach of her face. 

 

She hasn't seen it eat in weeks. 

 

"Where were you hiding when the demons attacked?" His voice is harsh, no humour or amusement lace the edges. 

 

The question wasn’t were you hiding. 

 

She doesn’t flinch, she can’t show any signs of discomfort despite his poor vision. She has been taught too well, yet there are some lessons she will never grasp properly. Lying being one of them. "I was in the house.” 

 

“In the house,” he repeats. Jungeun tenses, resists looking away from the milky white partially clouding his eyes. “Were you alone?” 

 

She finds her voice when the snake’s mouth opens, twin fangs protruding from its upper jaw. “Yes.”  

 

Exhaling through her nose, she regulates her breathing. Deep, slow inhales and exhales. 

 

The snake stills. Not a hint of emotion graces her father’s face and Jungeun is reminded of  how it has always been. She may be a few years older now, but standing in front of him, being confronted with her failures, she is a mere infant of no use to him.   

 

If she is of no use, she will be discarded. 

 

“Call Junmyeon, tell him to come.” Her father retreats to his desk, leaning against it. The snake slithers down to the floor, approaching Jungeun, and it takes everything in her to not run as it curls around her feet. 

 

Constricting her in place. 

 

He does not need to ask twice. From her pocket, she pulls out her phone, numbly scrolling through her contacts. Tapping the screen. 

 

Three rings sound and on the fifth, Junmyeon picks up. She forces out the words. “Come to my father’s study.”   

 

The pressure subsides as the snake uncoils. 

 

----

 

The police do not suspect anything. No foul play. Kim Junmyeon is just another number in the records, an unfortunate death met at the hands of a demon. 

 

Junmyeon was a good and loyal servant, he was a quiet man in his daily life. 

 

She wonders if he’ll forgive her. Would his wife curse Jungeun’s name until she rejoins her husband, would his newborn son grow up demanding she pay for her sin? 

 

Jungeun would if she were them. But they do not know, they’re in the dark. They’ll never know it was her who condemned an innocent man. 

 

On the day Junmyeon’s casket is laid in the ground, it’s difficult to miss the sight of his wife weeping with her whole heart. Jungeun traipses after her father and they leave immediately after the procession, giving quick condolences on the way out. 

 

She doesn’t cry then. 

 

In her room, within the supposed safety of the four walls, she huddles, curling up as much as she can underneath the blankets. Repressed vengeant hollowness envelops her being. 

 

----

 

Training in the yard alone, hacking at wooden dummies, she’s interrupted mid-swing. “Miss Kim?” 

 

The new servant has come up to her, head bowed respectfully which she isn’t too comfortable with, having told him bowing isn’t needed. She hasn’t interacted with him too much either aside from short pleasantries. 

 

Stiff and awkward is preferable to joking witty banter. That might just keep the servant’s head attached to his neck. 

 

She sheathes her katana. “What is it?”

 

“Your father has requested your participation in the Final Selection exam this year. It will be held two weeks from now.”  

 

No surprises there, she had a feeling this would happen. She wouldn’t have been able to delay taking the exam forever. Most candidates try their hand at it around her age; nonetheless, in her case, the circumstances line up perfectly. The message is clear. 

 

Junmyeon may have borne the brunt of her father’s wrath, but Jungeun hasn’t escaped punishment. There is no time to mourn, her grief will not be allowed to settle and dull. 

 

Consequences. What a strange notion at this very moment. Hazy disbelief has guided her through the week, virtually automatic responses in her every move. Concerning her actions though, regardless of her being the only living heiress of their clan, consequences await. 

 

Her father won’t take refusal for an answer.

 

----

 

Beginning at sundown, they have to survive for an entire week. 50 examinees, more or less, up on a mountain. A demon-infested mountain. 

 

No pressure. 

 

From the mountain’s foot to its midpoint, wisteria flowers bloom through the four seasons, keeping the demons imprisoned, unable to leave. The exception is the mountaintop, void of the purple flower. 

 

There, nothing will hold the demons back. Final Selection happens once a year and the demons are starving. Aching for revenge, they’ve been placed alive on the mountain, captured by demon slayers. Growing into their roles as gatekeepers to the Demon Slaying Corps. 

 

Jungeun isn’t worried about there being any competition or sabotage. Emitting a stronger human scent, grouping together would invite demons to them faster.

 

Besides, survival is the priority. She won’t have the energy to look out for someone else’s back. Surveying the other candidates, they seem to be thinking along the same lines, keeping to themselves before the exam begins. 

 

Well, there is one outlier. 

 

A girl with bangs covering her eyebrows, reddish brown hair tied into long pigtails. She isn’t hard to miss. She’s approaching everyone, chatting up a storm (one sidedly). Talking about everything and nothing. 

 

Jungeun has never been in the vicinity of someone so naturally loud. Splittingly loud, piercing into her ear drums even though she’s standing to the far left. Try as she might, she can’t tune out her voice. 

 

It also seems like the girl has finally found someone willing to indulge in a conversation. Instead of brushing her off.

 

“Wow! You killed a demon last week?” The girl claps her hands together, jaw dropping, “that’s amazing, you’ll pass this so easily. You just have that aura,” slicing the air with one hand. Twice. 

 

Accompanied by sound effects. Woosh. Woosh. 

 

The boy she’s speaking to smirks. “Thanks, but you don’t need to say that. I know I’m going to pass.” 

 

“I hope I do too. Dying would be a shame, I even drank milk this morning.” The girl flexes her biceps, puffing her cheeks. Toned muscle aside, her actions, her expression emanate childishness. Innocent eyes, too naive and friendly. Clueless even. “This is going to be fun, yeah? I’m excited!”

 

This girl clearly has a different definition of ‘fun’ from Jungeun. Probably from everyone else too.            

 

----

 

Her plan is to head east where the sun will rise first. Sunlight ignites the cells of demons, burning them to ashes, a piece of information instilled in her mind since birth. There’s a reason why no one dares to tread outside alone after dark. Unless they’re a demon slayer.  

 

As far as Jungeun knows and remembers, there are no demons resistant to sunlight. In the morning, she’ll be able to catch her breath, maybe even sleep. 

 

Survive the night, rest during the day. Rinse and repeat. 

 

So immersed in her thoughts, she doesn’t stop jogging until she spots it. Hunched over.  

 

Her hand flies to . 

 

Every fibre of her body suppressing the urge to scream, Jungeun reaches behind, palming brittle bark to steady herself. She backs away slowly. Ever so slowly, praying the dead grass won’t rustle. 

 

God forbid she steps on a twig, snapping it in half. 

 

Her pulse pounds, stomach about to flip. This is what it means to encounter a demon. Alone. 

 

Seven-foot tall, a horned-demon crouches, picking flesh apart. Messy strands of hair fall to its nose, obscuring its eyes. Knee-length shorts, dull gray skin on display as blotches of crimson drip onto the ground. 

 

Correction. Not dripping. Pooling. 

 

The demon, so similar to a human in appearance, yet Jungeun can hear bones crunching. 

 

And the dangling head from the demon’s mouth, the lifeless pupils staring into her soul, is there something remaining that she can call a body? She can’t look away, paralyzed, her eyes trained on the scene. 

 

The scent of iron shoots up her nostrils. 

 

The boy it’s eating. Morsel by morsel. Limb by limb. He had been standing a few feet from her at the foot of the mountain, waiting for the exam to begin. Boasting in a loud voice, a picture of walking arrogance. 

 

Jungeun doesn't know him, she has no love for him. But god. Bile rises through her system and she swallows. 

 

She has to swallow. 

 

Relishing, reaching the end of its meal, forearm hardly wiping its lips clean. 

 

No training can prepare her for this. Junmyeon slayed these beasts, felling them single handedly. Clean swings, lopping off their heads. Watching behind the safety of his back can't compare. 

 

She has to reach for her sword and fight. Anything. 

 

Training amounts to nothing when she's this scared of breathing, the shallowest exhale would give her away.   

 

She rips her hand from her own mouth. Just to shakily reach, grip her sword. 

 

Can she fight it? Should she even try? The boy tried and look where he is. Torn to shreds, decomposing within the demon's stomach. 

 

He was no match for it, there's no reason she would succeed, yet her father's final words ring in her ear, thinly veiled threats sending her off a fortnight ago. Jungeun is as good as dead if she comes home shaking and pale, no different from before. 

 

The demon stands at its full height. Sniffing the air for its next target. 

 

Smiling wide, stained jagged teeth glaringly evident in the moonlight. 

 

To hell with this, she can't even form a steady grip, she's trembling worse than ever. Hands clammy, her katana will slip. She needs to run before the demon comes, before it sees her. Bravado can kick in at another time. 

 

Veins in its arms pop. The demon turns. 

 

Though it doesn’t turn towards her, it faces the opposite direction. If Jungeun strains her ears, she can hear faint screechy laughter. Heading their way, louder and louder. 

 

Someone bursts through the trees. And it’s not just anyone. Reddish brown pigtails sway as she skids to a stop, eyes widening. 

 

The social butterfly from earlier. 

 

In a split second, the demon jumps, pouncing. Sand, dust flies into the air from the impact, the girl barely diving away. Rolling forward, scrambling to her feet, there’s no doubt about it. 

 

This girl is toast. Jungeun is too; however, this girl will be up first. 

 

And god damn it. Another surprise is on the way, the ground shaking. Thumping like a behemoth of a demon taking steps. Lumbering. Is everything heading their way?  

 

She can now see the outline, double in height of the horned demon. Quadruple in mass, in weight. This thing is humongous, a demon of this size shouldn’t exist on this mountain. 

 

It’s not normal, it can’t be. A morphed demon has no place here and the sole explanation? It must’ve consumed numerous examinees. 

 

Amidst the confusion, the girl runs to a tree. Said tree where Jungeun is and that’s all it takes. “What are you doing here?” the girl yelps, making eye contact, hands and feet already in motion. Scaling, climbing the tree. Halfway up, the girl yells again. “You should leave! There’s another demon coming, I was running from it just now!” 

 

As if Jungeun didn’t already know that. 

 

The behemoth of a demon is in plain view. Fat and wide. Sickly green skin, its tiny round head, yellow eyes peeking, obscured by thick blubber. A normal demon has two arms. (Humans do too, but Jungeun can’t exactly think clearly at the moment.) 

 

The new demon has won the lottery in the arm department. 

 

Now both demons’ attention is on her and the girl, except the demons seem to be... talking to each other. 

 

“This is my territory!” Snarling, the horned demon is a pipsqueak next to the other demon. “These kids are mine!” 

 

Arms extend, shooting towards the horned demon. Knocking him into the air, over the trees. Flying out of sight. 

 

She couldn’t even blink, it happened that fast. 

 

“Hey, you!” Jungeun looks up. The girl has her limbs wrapped around the trunk like a koala. “You good with your sword?” Pointing insultingly at Jungeun’s hip, where her katana is still sheathed. 

 

Maybe it’s the miniscule insinuation that she at wielding a sword. Jungeun strangely finds her voice. Annoyance pushes down her nerves momentarily. "Like you're any better!" 

 

The girl gasps audibly. "You think I'm bad?"

 

"Yeah! Who runs away up a tree if they weren't bad? And dumb!" And if they're likely going to die here, Jungeun might as well finish her thoughts. As payback for the supersonic screeching before the exam and because she’s seconds from crapping in her pants. Really. The morphed demon is advancing, its stubby head them, eyes in slits. "You think you’re living out some Hunger Games up there? Wrong! You brought a damn morphed demon here to kill us both!" 

 

Rolling her eyes, the girl jumps down, landing lightly. Looking at Jungeun up and down, brows knitted. “You look okay.” Unexpectedly squeezing Jungeun’s upper arm, pinching with her fingers. Releasing her hold, nodding in approval. “Firm like tofu.”  

 

Huh? 

 

"I’m going to kill the demon. And you'll help me."

 

So she has encountered stupidity at its finest. Jungeun can’t believe she’s having this conversation with her. “Are you nuts?”

 

“My mom said I look smart when I fight demons, don’t underestimate me,” the girl pauses, unsheathing her own katana, “I can carry my own weight.” Walking in front of Jungeun, her back to her, she shifts into a lowered stance. “But I’m really dumb for thinking you’d help me. You’re shaking like crazy.” 

 

In the corner of her eye, she sees movement.  

 

Jumping to the side, Jungeun barely dodges, the demon's arms striking where she was. The sound of slashes, limbs fall to the ground. 

 

Detached, blood oozes from the openings. The arms shrivels and dissipates into the air. 

 

Not that it matters. New limbs regrow from the demon, wounds mending on the fly. 

 

Huffing, sword tinted crimson, the girl throws a glance at Jungeun. "You alright?"

 

"No! Why are you trying to fight it?" 

 

The girl closes her eyes briefly, reopening them. Nostrils flaring. The intensity of her gaze takes Jungeun aback. "Why'd you even come here if you're scared?" 

 

Are they seriously doing this in the middle of a demon attack? 

 

Jungeun's eyes widen. "Look out!" Her reflexes activate, she tackles the girl as hard as she can. Dark green whizzes past them. Above their heads. 

 

Lying in a heap, they've got to move. Before the arms return, she pulls the girl up. Jungeun draws her own sword. No longer trembling, adrenaline jolting her system, her senses are on high alert. 

 

She breathes in, feels her muscles tighten. The fire inside her grows; it's self loathing, anger towards herself. 

 

Why did she come here if she wasn't going to put up a fight? So what if it's a morphed demon? With both hands, she grips her sword. "I'll take the left. You, the right."

 

The girl nods. Grinning and cackling like a maniac. "Don't mind me if I cut off its head first." 

 

Green arms come at them again, faster than before. This time, Jungeun is ready. A split second before impact, she throws herself under, sliding. Then she’s back up on her feet.

 

Determined to close the distance.   

 

Strength courses through, inhaling from her gut. Leg muscles bunching, Jungeun launches into the air. 

 

High enough for a feint. A slash down its torso. 

 

She writhes her body, her blade snaking, almost curving. Coiling, unpredictable in its movement, reaching her true target. The demon’s neck. Gathering her last bit of strength, she swings up.  

 

Horror chokes . 

 

It’s not enough. Her blade won’t cut through the skin. She’s falling, falling back down, and Jungeun’s life flashes before her, she sees the demon’s arms returning for her. She won’t even smash into the ground.  

 

She closes her eyes. Waits for the bone-crushing grip. 

 

Gasping soundlessly, agony ruptures from her front first. 

 

Then it spreads everywhere, tightening. Wrenching her eyes open. The world is spinning and rocking. 

 

She must be going insane because there, the other girl’s blade is behind the demon. Slashing clean through. A swift decapitation.  

 

It all stops. Fading in intensity, the demon's grip loosening, she feels herself plummeting. Black appears in her vision. 

 

The impact never hits.

 

----

 

“I thought you’d never wake up.” She blinks, adjusting to the light. Jungeun stares at foreign brown eyes inches from her own. 

 

She screams. 

 

Scrambles backwards furiously in unadulterated fear. That she has never felt before. “Holy sweet mother of g–” 

 

“Okay, you’re definitely awake. Good. I caught you before you smashed into a pancake.” The girl is on her knees, peering at her closely. 

 

The tips of her own ears redden. Something must’ve changed because Jungeun now finds the girl’s smile extra stupid. Stupidly making her want to scream into a cardboard box. 

 

For no reason. 

 

The girl smiles even wider, looks at her expectantly, and Jungeun says nothing. She has nothing to say. What is she supposed to say?

 

“Hey, I just told you I’m the reason why you don’t have a concussion.” 

 

Oh. Yes. That’s right. 

AN: Chuulip and swords. The power they radiate. For everyone familiar with kny, it’s obvious what breathe style Kim Lip has. As for Chuu? Ahaha, they’re just like Obanai and [car honking].

 

Thank you Clothes~ for beta-reading even though you have way better things to do.