The fire crackled beneath the darkening sky, casting flickering light over their makeshift camp. Orange flames licked upward as shadows stretched long across the clearing.
A rustle from the trees made Rui glance up.
Zou stepped into the firelight, his once-elegant robes torn at the hem.
Yet his grin was triumphant.
In one hand, he held two plump rabbits by the hind legs and carried a bundle of fresh herbs in the other.
"Apologies for the delay," he announced, giving the rabbits a jaunty shake. "Dinner took some… convincing."
His golden eyes gleamed with satisfaction. "The local wildlife doesn't usually encounter predators with such flair."
"And I also found some mountain sage and wild onions. I think they'll make a passable stew."
Jin stirred from where he'd been resting against a fallen log. He pushed himself upright, moving carefully.
"Let me help with those," he offered, already reaching out.
"You need to rest," Rui said quickly, concern lacing her voice.
Jin gave a soft smile as he took the herbs from her.
"Rui, we all remember what happened the last time you tried to cook."
He moved beside the fire, drawing a small knife from his belt. His hands worked deftly—plucking stems, slicing onions into even slivers, fingers steady despite the lingering fatigue.
"You can handle the garnish," he added, nodding toward a separate pile of delicate green leaves. "Just sprinkle them on after it's done."
"Garnish," Rui repeated, lifting a sprig and sniffing it.
"I think I can manage garnish. It's practically decorative."
She looked at it suspiciously.
"...Probably."
Jin chuckled, the sound quiet but warm.
They worked together around the campfire, falling into a quiet, unspoken rhythm.
Zou handled the rabbits with surprising skill, his hands quick and precise as he skinned and dressed them with elegant efficiency.
Kee Kee stood at the firepit, breathing controlled jets of pale blue flame to maintain a perfect cooking temperature.
"Who knew the fearsome demon beast was also a culinary expert?" Zou teased, spearing pieces of rabbit meat onto wooden skewers.
"I've eaten in the halls of the Demon King himself," Kee Kee sniffed haughtily. "I know what proper cooking requires."
The savory aroma of roasting rabbit and herbs filled the night air, making Rui's stomach growl.
When Zou handed Rui a skewer, she accepted it with both hands.
She took a bite. "This is actually... really good."
Zou preened. "Naturally."
They ate together beneath the canopy of stars, the fire crackling gently between them.
Zou reclined on one elbow, somehow managing to look composed even while eating meat off a stick.
Kee Kee sat perched on a rock beside the fire, tail swishing with satisfaction.
"The rabbit died with honor," Zou said solemnly.
"And exceptional seasoning."
They ate in comfortable silence for a few moments before Rui's expression grew serious.
She set down her empty skewer and looked at Jin.
"Your prayer beads... they're getting worse, aren't they?"
Jin's hand instinctively went to the beads around his wrist.
In the firelight, tiny fractures were visible across their surface, with an ominous red glow pulsing from within.
"The seal is weakening faster than I expected," he admitted.
"When those wraiths attacked, I felt the Behemoth... stirring."
Zou's voice lost its usual tease. "Then we don't have much time."
Rui shifted forward. "Jin, do you know exactly how this ritual works?"
Jin stared into the fire, the flickering light reflected in his solemn eyes.
"From my research, it appears that the Crimson Battlefield exists in both realms—mortal and demon. The ritual will establish a temporary liminal space to draw out the Behemoth.
"And once it's out?" she asked, her voice barely above a whisper.
"You'll face it," he said.
"And if you defeat it there... I live."
"Theoretically," Zou interjected, his golden eyes reflecting the firelight.
"However, I have never seen a ritual like that succeed."
"And if we don't?" Rui's voice trembled.
Jin didn't answer. Instead, he reached into his robe and drew out a small dagger.
He held it out to her with both hands.
"This is the Mercy Dagger," he said. "Master Tao entrusted it to me before we left."
"I thought you said this was a ceremonial dagger," questioned Rui.
"I was not prepared to tell you the truth,"
"If the ritual fails," Jin continued, "and the Behemoth cannot be severed... you have to use this. On me."
"Jin, no—" Rui began to recoil from the blade.
"You have to," he said, gently but firmly.
"If I lose control, if the seal breaks completely... I won't be me. And I can't let that thing walk free again. You've seen what it can do."
She shook her head, eyes burning.
"I won't need it," she said fiercely.
"I won't. We'll find a way. We'll succeed."
Across the fire, Kee Kee stared at the dagger, his usually flippant face lined with rare seriousness. The reflection of the blade danced in his ancient eyes.
"Separating the Behemoth will be like losing a limb," Jin admitted.
"But a poisoned limb that threatens the whole body."
Zou leaned forward. "And after? What then, Monk Jin?"
Jin looked up at the stars.
"I'll continue my work. There are many villages that need protection from spirits and demons. Many people who need guidance."
"Alone?" Rui asked, her voice softer than she intended.
Something flickered across Jin's face—longing, perhaps, or resignation.
"It's the path I've chosen."
"Sounds dreadfully boring," Zou declared, stretching his long limbs.
"I, for one, intend to follow our princess wherever her chaotic adventures lead. Someone with taste and style must be there to document her rise to power."
Rui rolled her eyes but couldn't hide her smile.
"And if I order you to leave me alone?"
"I would respectfully ignore such an obviously misguided command," Zou replied with a dramatic bow from his seated position.
Jin watched their exchange, a complex emotion crossing his features.
"And you, Princess?" he asked quietly. "After your trials are complete and you claim your throne... what then?"
Rui gazed into the fire, suddenly contemplative.
"I never thought much beyond survival, since everyone expected me to fail."
She looked up, meeting Jin's eyes across the flames.
"But now... I'm starting to imagine possibilities."
The unspoken words hung between them, as tangible as the sparks rising from their campfire into the vast, star-filled sky.
-----------------------
The campfire died to embers as the group prepared for rest. Jin excused himself first, ducking into his small tent with prayer beads clutched tightly in his palm.
"I need to meditate before sleep," he explained, his voice strained.
"To reinforce what remains of the seal."
Zou lounged against a tree trunk, golden eyes reflecting the fading firelight.
"I'll take first watch," he announced, gracefully leaping onto a thick branch overhead.
Rui spread her bedroll near the fire's warmth, but sleep eluded her.
She stared at the stars peeking through the canopy, mind racing with thoughts of trials, beasts, and possible futures.
Jin's words echoed in her head:
"It's the path I've chosen."
A path that didn't include her.
Kee Kee had no such troubles.
The tiny demon beast lay sprawled on his back, emitting snores that seemed impossible from such a small creature.
After an hour of restless tossing, Rui sat up.
She glanced toward Zou, who appeared to be dozing but likely wasn't.
With silent determination, she rose and padded softly across the clearing.
The tent flap whispered as she pushed it aside.
Inside, Jin sat cross-legged, back straight, prayer beads wrapped around his hands. His eyes flew open at her entrance.
"Rui?" Surprise colored his voice.
She knelt beside him without speaking, the small space bringing them close enough that she could feel the warmth radiating from his skin.
His prayer beads pulsed with faint crimson light.
"You should be resting," he whispered, though he made no move to send her away.
Rui reached for him, wrapping her arms around his shoulders and pressing her face against his neck.
She felt him stiffen momentarily before relaxing into her embrace.
"I'm not ready to lose you," she confessed, her words muffled against his skin.
Jin's hands tightened around her, his touch firm yet achingly tender.
He reached up and brushed a strand of hair from Rui's cheek, his fingers lingering against her skin.
"When your trials are over," he continued, voice soft, "you can always come find me here."
Rui's lips curved into a teasing smile.
"You do realize time passes differently in the mortal realm, right?" she said.
"By the time I'm done, you'll be an old man with a long white beard, complaining about the youth and your bad knees."
Jin chuckled, the sound low and warm, curling in the quiet of the tent.
"Would that be so terrible?" he asked, catching her wandering hand and pressing a kiss to her palm.
"An old monk, waiting for his demon princess?"
"Absolutely dreadful," she replied, though her eyes gleamed with mischief.
"I prefer you exactly as you are now."
Her expression softened.
"Though… after you've finished your mortal time, I suppose I could arrange something in the Underworld."
"Not as my attendant this time—I've learned my lesson there."
Jin raised an eyebrow. "Oh? And what would I be instead?"
"Whatever you want," she said simply. "The Underworld have some rather lovely places."
He was silent for a moment, his thumb tracing idle circles on the inside of her wrist.
"I'd like that," he whispered. "To spend eternity with you, after this life ends."
The sincerity in his voice surprised her. Rui blinked quickly, her usual mask of humor faltering.
"You'd really come to the Underworld?" she asked, her voice small.
"For me?"
"For us," he said.
"Whether it's sixty years from now or tomorrow… my soul would be at peace by your side."
Emotion bloomed in Rui's chest, unfamiliar and bright. She swallowed hard.
"Well," she said, half-laughing,
"I suppose I can clear my schedule for the next few millennia."
Jin smiled and leaned in until their foreheads touched, his breath warm against her skin.
"It's a promise, then."
Their lips met again—slower this time, deeper.
The kiss was a vow, a promise that their fates will intertwine again.
Rui pressed closer, her hands slipping beneath his robe to find the warmth of his skin.
"I want to remember every second with you," she whispered.
"No matter what happens tomorrow."
Outside, the night surrounded them in a cocoon of quiet sound: the rustle of wind through leaves, the distant cry of an owl, and the last crackle of dying embers.
And in the silence between heartbeats, they drifted into slumber, the world momentarily paused around them