Aarohi hadn't been to a fan café in months.
Not because she didn't want to. But between helping Aaru with school, part-time tutoring, and dodging power outages, free time felt like luxury. Still, when Naina pulled her along on a warm Sunday afternoon with a promise of cold soda and new SOLARIS banners, she didn't resist.
The café was nestled in a quiet lane, a modest two-story building decorated with fairy lights and posters of K-pop groups past and present. Inside, soft Korean ballads played as baristas with pastel aprons handed over matcha lattes and strawberry bubble teas.
Aarohi felt the strange peace that came only in places like this — where you weren't judged for loving something deeply.
Naina immediately rushed to a small event booth where fans could write letters to SOLARIS, to be posted on the official fan network.
Aarohi browsed.
There was a corner wall dedicated to Jae-min. Photos from recent concerts. Polaroid-style edits fans had made. One especially caught her eye — a candid from the Seoul music show, where Jae-min was caught mid-laugh, the sunlight pouring across his face.
Her hand hovered over it.
And then—
A whisper.
Cruel.
Ancient.
"He won't be laughing for long."
Aarohi froze.
She turned. No one stood behind her. The music was soft, cheerful. Naina was laughing across the room with another girl.
She shook her head. Maybe it was in the song?
She leaned closer to the speaker.
Nothing.
Then it came again.
"You think love protects? It destroys. You'll see."
The voice was inside her head.
Not imagined. Not a hallucination. It felt… alive.
She stepped back. The lights flickered above her.
No one else reacted.
She scanned the café. Everyone was calm.
But the voice was clear.
"He is mine."
Her breath caught.
"Who's there?" she whispered.
A few fans looked her way, puzzled.
She hurried to the back. Past the bookshelf lined with fanfiction zines. Toward the staff hallway.
The air turned heavy as she moved deeper into the building.
It was colder here.
And then she saw it — a door slightly ajar. One that wasn't marked.
Behind it, a dim glow.
And then — the whisper again.
"Follow, little light. Let me show you the truth."
Something inside her screamed to run.
But something stronger… pulled.
She pushed the door open.
The room was small. Dark. Candles flickered along a desk. Old posters lined the walls, but not fanmade ones. These were distorted. Jae-min's eyes blacked out. Scribbled messages in red ink:
"Let them fall."
"Love is possession."
"Devotion is destruction."
And at the center — a mirror.
She stepped forward.
Her reflection stared back.
Then changed.
Her face flickered into someone else's — the girl from the fight.
Hyun-ae.
Mouth smiling. Eyes empty.
And then—behind her, in the mirror—a figure.
Tall. Horned. Smoke where its face should be.
Asura.
She gasped and stumbled back.
The mirror cracked.
The candles extinguished.
Darkness.
Then a hand touched her shoulder.
She spun, heart in her throat.
Naina.
"Didi? Are you okay? You've been gone for like fifteen minutes."
Aarohi looked around. The door was gone.
So was the room.
Only a blank hallway remained.
She tried to speak. Her voice trembled. "I… I think I heard something."
Naina frowned. "Are you sure? You look pale."
Aarohi nodded, forcing a smile. "Let's… get some air."
They stepped outside. The sun felt too bright. Too sharp.
As they walked, Aarohi touched the charm bracelet on her wrist. A gift from her mother years ago — a tiny silver moon.
It felt warm now.
As if reacting to something.
That night, she didn't sleep.
She sat on her terrace, staring at the stars.
And she whispered:
"Who are you?"
The wind answered with silence.
But somewhere, in a realm only partially real, Asura smiled.
"She hears me now," he said.
"And soon… she will understand."