Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

Rumi was a third wheel.

She knew Zoey and Mira were closer to each other than they were to her. It wasn’t like they excluded her, though. They very much tried to enmesh Rumi into their bonding activities as much as possible. Every time they went out to the bathhouse, booked relaxation days at spas, or went clothes shopping, there was always a “Rumi, come with us!” to which Rumi, without fail, replied “Maybe next time” every single time.

She couldn’t risk it, not while her patterns were still there. Anything that required Rumi to disrobe needed to have at least one locked door to a private room before she’d even reach for the hem of her shirt. Whenever she wanted to relax in a bath, it was in her own bathroom behind a locked door. Whenever she needed new clothes, Celine arranged to have them delivered and would have Rumi try them on in her own apartment, behind a locked door.

And a relaxing spa day? Never happened, really. It was hard to give yourself a deep tissue massage and Celine wasn’t even one for hugging. Rumi certainly wasn’t going to duck into her office and say, “Hey, emotionally distant maternal figure? Can you rub my back because my spine sounds like pop rocks?”

At first, Zoey and Mira wouldn’t go out without Rumi, not wanting her to feel left out. That ended up with all three of them bored and miserable, so Rumi finally convinced them it was okay, that she won’t be hurt if they go and have fun without her.

(It hurt. A lot. But it wasn’t their fault)

So for years, while Zoey and Mira were running and playing all over Seoul, Rumi stayed behind. Sometimes she was with Celine, but that was barely any better than being alone. At least when Rumi stayed behind at the penthouse, she could take a break from stuffy turtlenecks and sweatshirts. Even if she and Celine were alone, Celine insisted the marks stay covered.

“You’ll get too comfortable having them out. Someone might accidentally see. Your faults and fears must never be seen.”

Well, someone saw. Everyone saw. Even if they weren’t physically in the crowd, enough people had the presence of mind during the wind down of Gwi-Ma’s defeat to take out their phones and take a plethora of videos and pictures. Within the hour, every social media platform was flooded with people commenting on Rumi’s “new look” and the legendary live song debut they just witnessed.

For some reason, nobody seemed concerned about the big demon lord, the mass brainwashing that led them to the stadium, or their favorite k-pop idols floating. There must have been some sort of Honmoon magic that kept civilians from registering what actually happened, just like how they weren’t able to see the Honmoon itself.

Whatever. Small blessings.

Now, with everything out in the open, Rumi could finally, finally, say yes to the bathhouse. She was practically waiting on the edge of her seat for Mira to hobble into the living room, sleep mussed and pressing her hand against the base of her spine in that way that always meant her muscles were aching. Mira, ever attentive to her body’s needs as the group’s dancer, didn’t tolerate sore muscles or strained joints. She needed her body to always be at 100% so her choreo was at 110% and any sort of twinge of grumble in any of her limbs meant it was time to drop everything and follow the trail of steam straight to the bathhouse.

When Mira dragged herself to the kitchen for breakfast kimbap for the third day in a row, clearly feeling discomfort with how stiff her gait was, Rumi couldn’t stay quiet any longer.

“Why haven’t you and Zoey gone to the bathhouse yet?” It came out before she realized starting with a “hello” or “good morning” might have been a little less jarring, Mira looking like a deer in headlights at the sudden, borderline accusatory question.

“Uh, well …” Mira blinked, her eyes still groggy from sleep and her hand suspended in air as she was reaching for the fridge door. “We didn’t want you to feel lonely after … you know.”

After you had all of your fears broadcast to the world.

After we raised our weapons at you.

After someone you clearly cared about sacrificed his soul to save you.

“Why would I be lonely?” Rumi asked, nervously fiddling with the hem of her tank top.

(Her tank top. Oh, how times have changed.)

“You’d be here and we just - wait,” Mira looked like she woke up all at once. Her kimbap fetching hand dropped back to her side and she looked at Rumi with utter shock. “You want to come with? To the bathhouse? And like, actually in the baths?”

“... Yes?”

There was a tense silence with Mira gawking and Rumi fidgeting. Eventually, Mira straightened back up and with a lung capacity that only a trained dancer and rapper could have, shouted back towards the bedrooms.

“Zoey! Wake up! We’re going to the bathhouse! With Rumi!” Rumi nearly jolted out of her seat at the kitchen island, clearly not expecting the volume or urgency. Almost immediately, the door to Mira’s bedroom slammed open revealing a disheveled Zoey, her hair still in curlers and wearing rumpled turtle-patterned pajamas.

“Rumi bathhouse trip?!” Zoey practically had sparkles in her eyes, wearing that over-excited expression of hers that made fans compare her to a labrador retriever being told it was about to go on walkies.

Mira nodded, arms crossed and expression deadly serious. “Rumi bathhouse trip.”

Zoey gasped, looking like electricity shot up her spine.

“I’ll be ready in ten! No, five! I’ll be ready in five!” she said, full of her trademark adorable enthusiasm. She bolted out of Mira’s room to her own, nearly slipping and falling as her fuzzy socks lost friction on the smooth floors. She righted herself and went back to full speed, flinging her bedroom door open and slamming it behind her as she babbled excitedly but incoherently, mostly in English. Rumi couldn’t help but let out a laugh through her nose, the maknae’s joyous energy being well-known as dangerously infectious.

“She’ll be ready in twenty.” Mira said, knowing Zoey all too well. Abandoning the fridge, she opened up a cupboard and pulled out a protein bar, opening it and taking a massive bite. She headed back to her room to get ready as well, speaking with her mouth crammed full like they always did around each other. “No makeup. Be ready or we will drag you out as-is.”

Rumi nodded, a bright smile on her face. She was nervous, but the anticipation made it manageable. Stuffing the last bit of her own kimbap in her mouth, she hopped off of her stool and trotted back towards her room to change out of her pajamas. As she crossed the threshold of her room and closed the door behind herself, she halted in her steps, suddenly overcome with confusion.

… Why was Zoey coming out of Mira’s room first thing in the morning?

…

Whatever. She’ll ask later.

Chapter Text

From what Rumi had assumed, bathhouses had very simple etiquette.

Don’t wear clothes in the water, wash yourself beforehand, and lastly, don’t stare at the other naked patrons.

It was easy to keep her gaze on the respectful side, despite how easy it would be to stare in awe at her amazingly pretty friends and their perfect, toned bodies. They were k-pop superstars after all! Every skincare product, hair treatment, and workout routine was at their disposal, no matter how lavish or expensive. Zoey’s skin always looked so soft, like hugging her would feel like cuddling with a cloud and her complexion was always bright and rosy with perfect, pink lips.

And Mira? Dancing and fighting turned her into a marble statue with legs for days. With her long hair, toned stomach, and looooong legs, staring was the default mode when Mira was in the room. Making her the visual of the group wasn’t a decision. It was destiny.

And with her killer sense of style and absolutely flawless makeup skills? With Mira and Zoey being the perfect combo of soft and sharp, huggable and untouchable, Rumi had to get her urge to stare in check from the first day they met. The years since were basically practice runs for the absurd amount of self control Rumi had to exercise knowing she was about to see her Devastatingly Attractive™ friends undressed.

Honestly, how did anyone with pretty friends possibly go to a bathhouse with them? The urge to kiss them must be intense. Rumi already had to fight that urge when they were in too large kigurumis with mud masks on. It was just a totally normal thought to have about your pretty friends, especially close ones, so she tried not to stress over it too much.

So yeah, no staring. Self control, right? She just had to see how nonchalant and casual Mira and Zoey were and match their energy.

Except they were staring.

To be fair, they had been kind of staring ever since they convened in the living room (fifteen minutes later, rather than Zoey’s promised five and Mira’s predicted twenty) and saw Rumi in her loose, short sleeved crop top. Mira had zeroed in on the iridescent lines curling over Rumi’s collarbones and throat and Zoey’s dropped to the ones cresting over the hem of Rumi’s jeans and across her toned stomach. The silence was deafening and their stares were scorching, the only thing snapping them out of their trance being Rumi nervously tugging the hem of her shirt down as if it would suddenly become longer to hide the patterns.

“Unnieeeee!” Zoey practically squealed, rushing up to Rumi grabbing her hands. Rumi had a nervous smile on her face, her heart doing funny things in her chest with how Zoey looked up at her. It was the kind of joy and excitement Zoey gave off finding shrimp chips on sale, except dialed up ten times brighter. “You look sooooo pretty!”

“... Really?” Rumi had been called pretty probably millions of times in her life, along with every synonym that came with it. Sometimes it felt like background noise, like someone commenting on the weather to her. But when Zoey said it? It felt like there was confetti in her chest.

“Uh, yeah.” Mira chimed in, stepping up to Rumi as well. She took Rumi’s hands from Zoey, lifting one up high and forcing Rumi to do a clumsy twirl. Rumi could practically feel those sharp eyes dragging up her entire body, taking in every inch of skin and stripes. “You know what I see? Actual perfection.”

A nervous laugh was the only reply Rumi could give, letting her hand fall free naturally and stepping back to scoop up her tote bag from the couch. Her cheeks felt hot and her skin thrummed in a way that meant her patterns were beginning to glow. She wasn’t sure how noticeable it was, standing in the already bright sunlight that flooded through the penthouses' massive floor to ceiling windows. If Zoey or Mira noticed, they didn’t say anything.

Once they started heading towards the bathhouse, the intensity of her friends’ stares retreated into the back of Rumi’s mind. Rumi instead had to focus on not being left behind by an excited Zoey who eagerly ran ahead to get to the bathhouse quicker while also making sure Mira didn’t get left behind. The notoriously effortless and cool beauty of Huntr/x never moved faster than five kilometers per hour for anything less than a vast stage or a demon face ripe for stabbing. How the two went out together all of the time without losing each other was a miracle.

Luckily, the bathhouse wasn’t far. The three couldn’t deny their penthouse was in the upscale part of town and the bathhouse Zoey and Mira frequented was very much the same. The biggest reason was the availability of private rooms for small groups, making relaxation a breeze for big time celebrities who didn’t want to worry about being bombarded by fans or any unsavory characters when they were most vulnerable.

Once they got inside and all checked in, they were guided to the changing rooms for their rented suite and each handed fluffy towels and robes. Mira and Zoey were already reaching towards their hems and waistbands to shuck off their clothes when the door locked behind them, leaving Rumi standing awkwardly with an armful of warm, white fabric. Her eyes were stuck on the rapidly growing amount of skin her friends were showing, knowing she only had about a second left before her stare entered the category of “weird” and two more seconds from “rude”.

As soon as she saw Mira reach back to unclasp her bra, Rumi spun around, dropping her towel and bathrobe on the wooden bench. She huddled into the corner of the room, shoving her clothes off as quickly as possible so she could throw the robe on and escape the changing room as quickly as possible. Sudden knocks on her bedroom door while she was changing and costume changes between sets made Rumi a pro at throwing clothes on and off in a blink.

She was so confident in her changing speed that even after her robe was on and tied, she stayed facing the corner like a kid in timeout to make sure her heart wouldn’t give out from the totally normal and platonic feeling of seeing her devastatingly attractive friends naked.

After a count to ten, she whirled around only to be met with Zoey and Mira standing there in their robes looking at her. Zoey had her head cocked like a puppy who heard a weird noise and Mira was entirely deadpan with a quirked eyebrow.

“Are you enjoying your corner time?” Mira drawled, one hand on her hip and the other holding her towel, ready to go. Rumi gave an awkward laugh, finding the end of her long braid and wringing it in her hands.

“Uh, yeah! High quality corners here. Can’t wait to see if the baths measure up.” Mira and Zoey just continued to stare for a solid two seconds before Zoey cracked, letting out a snort of a laugh. Mira chuckled, shaking her head and strolling up to Rumi to pull the braid away from the leader’s nervous hands.

“C’mon. Let me bundle your hair up and we can get in.”

Rumi assumed being in the water would offer reprieve in two ways.

One, the literal relaxation of the hot water sinking into her aching muscles.

And two, the steam and water offering a flimsy shield from the overbearing feeling of exposure.

Not staring should be a piece of cake, no standing in a corner to prevent gawking (platonically) at her Devastatingly Attractive™ best friends required!

So when Rumi sunk into the water and heard Mira and Zoey do the same, she fluttered her eyes open to glance (respectfully) at them and comment on how nice the bath felt, she felt like she had been punched in the gut. Not because of the glorious sight of two of the most beautiful and perfect women in Seoul, but because of the way they were staring at her.

“Woah … that’s like, super pretty.” Zoey said breathlessly, her eyes staring at the curve of Rumi’s shoulders emerging from the water. Brows furrowed in confusion, Rumi looked down at herself and was shocked at what she was seeing.

Dancing across the marks on her shoulders and all the way down beneath the water, a faint purple and pink light pulsed from Rumi’s skin. It wasn’t anything like the sickly reddish-pink or tar-like purples they usually saw staining a demon’s skin. The way Rumi’s patterns were glowing was gentle on the eyes, carrying a soothing look about them.

“Have they always done that?” Mira scooted closer, causing the water to lap against their skin. Rumi shook her head.

“No, never.”

On Rumi’s other side, Zoey scooted in as well. Rumi startled a bit when she felt their maknae’s hand find hers under the water, bringing it above the surface and marvelling at the shimmering lines weaving through Rumi’s fingers and over her palms.

“You somehow keep getting more and more beautiful.” Zoey’s voice was quiet and borderline reverent, almost as if she hadn’t intended to say it out loud. The words still hit Rumi like a freight train, causing the glow to brighten as her cheeks grew warmer than could be blamed on the steam alone.

“One of her many talents.” Mira added, causing Rumi to jolt again when her other hand was taken out of the water. Both of her bandmates were tracing the patterns along her palms, their touches drifting down across the sensitive skin of her inner wrists. It would have been ticklish, had Rumi’s heart not been hammering in her chest.

“Y-Yeah, you guys, too.” Rumi stammered, her internal screaming getting louder and louder as Zoey and Mira’s hands glided further down her arms. “Very b-beautiful and talented. The most! I 

just try to keep up.”

Mira let out a hum in response, watching the purple glow pulse for a few more seconds. It made Rumi somehow feel more naked. She looked off to the side at Zoey, only to see Zoey already looking back up, but not at her. Mira and Zoey were now meeting eyes, an almost conspiratory look between them. Just as Rumi was about to start word-vomiting, they released her arms and slid back into their respectfully distant spots. They settled in as if nothing had just happened, letting their eyes slip closed with blissful sighs.

It took a few seconds for Rumi to realize she was staring, jaw slack and trying to process what just happened. She knew some friends helped wash each other in bathhouses. Maybe this was all normal. An image came to Rumi’s mind of Zoey and Mira in their previous bathhouse visits, sitting close enjoying the soft feel of each other’s skin.

Blue screen. Dial up noises. Rumi.exe error. Abort, abort, abort.

Violently shoving down those (platonic) thoughts about her Devastatingly Attractive™ best friends, Rumi willed her body to relax, leaning back against the wall of the bath and letting herself sink further into the water with a sigh.

“Wow. This feels amazing.”

“We’ve been saying that for yeeeeeears.”

Chapter Text

Being on hiatus was weird.

Truly on hiatus. In the past, even if they were technically taking a break, Rumi would hole herself up and continue working while Zoey and Mira enjoyed themselves.

The thoughts of anyone seeing her marks filled Rumi with visceral fear every waking moment and the only way she could ignore that fear was to work harder, make the next song better. Everything was one step closer to the golden Honmoon. The sooner those dancing, shimmering lines turned gold, the sooner the sickeningly purple ones covering Rumi’s arms would disappear.

Then and only then, Rumi could relax.

But now the Honmoon was fixed(?) and the patterns were different, but not gone. Zoey had started referring to it as the Iridescent Honmoon, commenting how the bands running across the world weren’t just blue anymore, nor the gold they thought they wanted. It shimmered with pinks, greens, and purples, just like Rumi’s marks. It was beautiful, despite being built with their flaws and insecurities out in the open.

“Just like you.” Mira had said, when they were all sitting on Rumi’s balcony (bird and tiger included) and gazing at the glittering lights of Seoul’s nightlife and watching the pulse of the Honmoon. Rumi immediately had to hide her face in her hands to hide the sudden redness. There was no hiding the faint golden pulse of her patterns, though.

Now that everything was more or less better and the threats were gone for the time being, Rumi was finally, actually relaxing.

Mira was in her room doing a livestream while she tried on a bunch of different makeup, chatting with their fans while she experimented with some new products that brands had sent her. Zoey was in the kitchen, bouncing around like always. She was apparently doing an “experiment” to replicate a certain tteokbokki recipe they had from a street vendor in Daegu.

According to her, the last batch was 67% accurate. They had been eating tteokbokki for three days straight.

So that left Rumi on the couch, eating some ridiculously unhealthy American cereal Zoey swore by while she watched a random news program on their massive TV. Her phone was discarded at her side with Mira’s live playing barely loud enough to hear. It had been pinging earlier, causing her to set it on Do Not Disturb so she could enjoy a few mind numbing hours of nothingness.

Turns out, her phone had been pinging for a reason.

A sharp chime came from the penthouse elevator, causing both Zoey and Rumi to perk up.

“Were we expecting someone?” Zoey said, wiping her hands on her apron. It had been a housewarming present from her family when they finally relocated to Seoul, patterned with cartoon turtles and neon green.

“Bobby said he was going off grid for a weekend trip, so no.” Rumi set aside the cereal bowl, grabbing her phone and minimizing Mira’s live. She finally looked at the wall of notifications, stomach dropping. “Shit!”

Before Zoey could ask, the elevator doors slid open, revealing Celine wearing a cold expression. She was dressed in what Mira called her “bitch suit”, a crisp charcoal grey pants suit that only ever got pulled out for press conferences about dating scandals.

Without even an attempt at a greeting, she zeroed in on Rumi and stormed over, causing the leader to shrink in on herself. The last time she had seen Celine was the night of the idol awards, when she fell to her knees and offered her sword to the retired Hunter. Since then, Celine had been radio silent.

Here she was now, reaching into her blazer and pulling out shiny, crisp photos and slapping them onto the coffee table, next to the discarded bowl of violently colorful cereal. A few of them were the prints of Huntr/x’s last photoshoot, all three girls lined up and glancing to the side at the camera. One, placed on the very top, was of said photo plastered on a massive billboard.

“Have you lost your mind?!” Celine was shouting, coming closer to loom over Rumi. She pointed at the photo of the billboard, and with her other hand, grabbed Rumi’s arm. Yanking it up, the sunlight hit Rumi’s bare arms, shimmering off of the patterns. “Have you forgotten what I taught you? Why are these plastered all over every board and screen in South Korea?”

“Well, I, uh -”

Before Rumi could cobble up an answer, a whizz of light shot across the room, right past Celine. There was a thunk as a glowing kunai lodged itself into the wall. Both Celine and Rumi froze, Celine with a thin, red line now sliced across one cheek. They slowly turned their heads, seeing Zoey holding two more kunai and sporting a death glare and her cutesy apron.

“I suggest you let go of her right now. I won’t ask again.” Zoey said, voice low and venomous. Celine let out an exasperated scoff, her anger multiplying ten-fold.

“How dare you - “

Another kunai flew through the air, this time slicing a large chunk of hair off and narrowly missing Celine’s ear.

“I will not miss for a third time.” Zoey took a step forward, already winding her arm back to throw the last kunai. Celine released Rumi’s arm, backing away with her hands up defensively. Rumi began scrambling, trying to defuse the situation.

“Celine, its fine! They know and the Honmoon–”

“Destroyed! Because of you!” Celine cut her off, her vicious glare once again fixed onto Rumi.

“No, no! We made a new one and everything–”

“And you think this one will hold? That you can just parade these shameful markings as if everything is okay?”

“It’s just–” Rumi could feel her panic rising, a red light crackling up and down her patterns in uneven pulses.

“This is unacceptable! Your mother would be ashamed!”

“Enough!”

Rumi’s distorted roar burst from her throat, causing the air around them and the ever present contours of the Honmoon to shake. Everyone went deathly still, Rumi’s breathing ragged and her hands stained grey with sharp claws. It was as if Celine managed to dredge up every ugly, shameful emotion Rumi had thought was in the past.

There were a few moments of tense silence, Rumi wide eyed and panting, Zoey ready to launch another kunai, and Celine recoiled away like there was a vicious beast about to attack.

A sudden hand on Celine’s shoulder caused her to jolt, the former Hunter whipping around to see Mira glaring down at her. Mira’s makeup was half done, one eye lacking eyeliner and mascara smudged.

“I think it’s time for you to go.” Mira’s voice left no room for questions or protests, calm and icy in a way that left people cowering. It seemed Celine wasn’t immune, the older woman letting out a shuddering breath. She straightened up, shrugging Mira’s hand away.

Celine, for all her faults, was a smart woman. She had long since lost her fighting edge, no longer able to summon her weapon from the Honmoon’s magic. She didn’t stand a chance against three Hunters in their prime and she knew it. Muscles tense and movement cautious, she backed away towards the elevator, hitting the call button and keeping her guard up and eyes on the three.

The wait for the elevator felt like ages, the air tense and crackling as the doors slid opened. Celine stepped back into it, the doors shutting with a feeling of finality. Only after a solid five seconds of silence did the three relax, Zoey dismissing her kunai and Mira crouching down to tend to Rumi.

“Did she hurt you? Are you okay?” Mira asked, smoothing an imaginary stray hair out of Rumi’s face. Rumi let out a shaking breath, leaning her cheek into the palm of Mira’s hand.

“I’m fine. She didn’t hurt me.”

“Physically.” Zoey cut in, practically fuming. “She has a lot of nerve, coming in here like she owns the place and talking to you like that! She’s lucky I didn’t skewer her the second she grabbed you!”

Mira let out a pensive hum, gently lifting Rumi’s arm and running her fingers across the patterns, all the way down to where Celine had grabbed. The skin was slightly red, but not seriously hurt. The angry flaring of the patterns calmed under Mira’s caring touch, Rumi feeling like she could breathe easy again.

“It’s – well, it's not fine. But she’s gone now. I’m okay. We’re okay.” Rumi gave Mira a soft smile, moving to grasp her hand and give it a reassuring squeeze. She turned to Zoey and did the same, letting her best friends know that she had been hurt, but everything was going to be alright.

“I gotta go make sure the tteokbokki didn’t burn. I swear, I’ve nailed it this time.” Zoey said, returning the squeeze. Before letting go, she ducked down to press a kiss onto Rumi’s forehead, right where her patterns dipped down towards her brow. Rumi’s heart fluttered, murmuring a quiet thanks as Zoey retreated back to the kitchen.

Turning towards Mira, Rumi noticed her half-done makeup. “What happened with your live?”

“Not important.” Mira answered quickly, shaking her head. She paused, pursing her lips in thought for a moment. Her hand was still wound with Rumi’s, her thumb rubbing circles on Rumi’s skin. “Actually, I still have a few things I wanted to try out. Join me? Not live, of course.”

“Sure. I’ll be your guinea pig.”

Mira pulled Rumi to her feet, leading her by the hand from the living room to her room. Just as they were about to shut the door, they heard Zoey shout out from the kitchen.

“Fuck yeah!” she yelled triumphantly, in English. “I nailed it!”

Chapter Text

“Fuck yeah!” she yelled triumphantly, in English. “I nailed it!”

Mira and Rumi paused at the threshold of the room, both letting out a snort of a laugh at Zoey’s outburst.

“Seems like we’re having tteokbokki for dinner.” Rumi said, wandering further into Mira’s room as the door shut. Looking around, she could see Mira’s meticulously cleaned and decorated room just as it always was. The only difference was the large vanity pushed up against one wall. Its surface was scattered with all kinds of colorful compacts, palettes, tubes, and pencils with Mira’s phone still mounted on her ring light tripod. Rumi stared at the phone warily, hands coming up to smooth down her hair and clothes.

“It’s not on. I shut down the live as soon as I heard Celine.” Mira’s voice was suddenly right behind Rumi, causing her to jolt. She spun around, giving a strained smile.

“G-good. It would have sucked if the fans overheard.”

“Honestly, I wouldn’t care if they did.” Mira breezed past Rumi to the vanity. She removed her phone from the tripod, flicking the ring light off and pushing it to the side. Crouching down, she picked up a few eyeliner pencils that must have clattered to the ground in her rush to go out and confront Celine. “I was more concerned that you didn’t want to field questions about it later.”

“... Yeah. That would have kinda sucked a little more.” Rumi said, eyes lowered and her hands awkwardly fiddling with the hem of her shirt. There was still a residual ache in her chest from the confrontation and the sheer anger and disgust on Celine’s face. While Rumi had long since erased any expectations of a loving relationship with Celine, the older woman had been her only maternal figure for over twenty years. A part of her still foolishly craved the validation and affection that she was never given.

“Hey,” Mira’s voice snapped Rumi out of her heavy thoughts, a finger hooking under Rumi’s chin to lift her gaze from the ground. “None of that. Stay here with me, okay? What she thinks doesn’t matter.”

Rumi’s eyes met Mira’s, something heavy lodging itself in her throat. She tried to swallow it down and nodded, taking a deep grounding breath. Mira gave her a soft, pleased smile in response, her finger moving the slide across Rumi’s jaw. Rumi’s chest felt warm, leaning into the touch and taking in her best friends face and –

Laughing.

Like, a loud snort through your nose laughing.

“I’m sorry! It’s just–” Rumi wheezed, her sudden mirth taking Mira aback. Rumi clumsily gestured towards Mira’s face. “--your makeup just looks kinda funny.”

Blinking in surprise, Mira turned and took a step back over to the vanity mirror, taking in her unfinished makeup. Both eyes were painted with dramatic blue and purple shimmers and her cheekbones were dusted with blinding glitter. The part that looked odd was the eyeliner. When Mira heard Celine yell, she had just finished doing a bold, complex graphic liner on one eye and was about to move to the next one. Having been interrupted by the chaos, her eyes looked horrifically asymmetrical, the lined one dramatic and striking and the unlined squinty and naked looking.

“Oh, yeah no. It looks dumb as hell.” Mira said, glaring at her own reflection. “Dammit, Celine. I was in the middle of a masterpiece.”

“You’re still a masterpiece, Mira. No amount of weird makeup will change that.”

“Hey! Nuh uh!” Mira whipped towards Rumi, wagging her finger. She then pointed at the stool situated in front of the vanity. “It’s Rumi pampering time. Go sit down while I wash this mess off.”

Rumi held her hands up in surrender, shuffling over to the stool and sitting down. Mira retreated into her bathroom, the sound of the faucet running and the clink of bottles of luxury skincare products coming from the cracked door. Rumi took the time to study her own reflection on the vanity, turning her head to see how the lights shimmered off of her patterns and frowning.

Thus far, the fans' reactions to them had been positive. While Bobby was in the dark about their true origin, he was able to spin a story to the public that Rumi had an adverse reaction to some special effects makeup they were using in a music video. Any questions about how they sometimes appeared to glow were kept quiet, it being an unspoken rule that asking about her “scars” from the fabricated makeup mishap was rude and insensitive. It was made clear in the statement Bobby released that yes, they were permanent and Rumi had been struggling with hiding them and no, she was no longer going to do that. Fans rallied in support, calling Rumi brave for enduring such a dramatic change and showing it proudly.

Although the pretenses were false, their sentiments still rang home for Rumi.

So why was it so hard for Celine?

She knows Celine resented her demon father, saying that it was his fault that her mother died but not elaborating any further. From the bits and pieces Rumi could weasel out, it wasn’t her father who directly caused her death and her mother did have some love for him to the very end. The one time Rumi worked up the guts to directly ask what happened, Celine’s face turned even more icy and she said, “Your mother forgot what side she was on. It was her greatest mistake.”

Yes, her greatest mistake. The one that caused Rumi to be born. Rumi had an aching feeling that Celine considered her the main reason her mother died. Sometimes it seemed as if Rumi had driven her sword into her own mother’s chest, seeing how Celine talked about it.

A part of her wondered how her mother reacted when she was born, seeing the first bits of purple smears on her arms as an infant. Was her mother scared? Angry? Was her father there with her, all three of them pretending to be a normal, happy family?

If what Celine said was true, her mother loved her with all of her heart. The first time Celine had ever shown any true warmth or pity to Rumi was when she was five, staring at her patterns on the anniversary of her mother’s death.

“Did mom think I was evil?” Rumi had asked, in that tiny, pitiful way children did when they were thinking thoughts too heavy to rest on their tiny shoulders. Celine had dropped what she was doing - folding laundry, if remembered correctly - and for the first time, took Rumi into her arms and squeezed.

“Not even for a second. She looked at you and saw her beautiful baby. You were her most beloved treasure in the whole world.”

And yet, her greatest mistake.

Looking back, Celine’s sudden passion and warmth had more to do with the false assumptions about her mother. Celine was very protective of her mother’s legacy, to the point where she was willing to raise a half-demon child.

Lucky me, Rumi thought bitterly, remembering exactly how “treasured” Celine made her feel just a bit ago. She could feel a heaviness settle in her chest and her eyes begin to burn, casting them downwards away from her reflection.

Just as tears threatened to form, Mira strolled back into the room, bare-faced and with her hair pulled back in a fuzzy headband. It was white with little bear ears to match her pajamas and slippers, a perfect contrast of Mira’s sharpness with cozy softness. Even if she didn’t say anything out loud, Rumi could tell from the brief pause in her steps and the softening of her eyes that she saw the fleeting bit of hurt lingering from the altercation. Not wanting to dwell on it too much, Rumi awkwardly cleared her throat and straightened up on the chair.

“So! What experiment are you gonna do?” she said, plastering on a smile. It was the kind that was fake, but not in a lying way. It was more so a “can we talk about something nicer?” kind of smile.

“I have a few ideas.” Mira said with a hum, leaning her hip against the vanity and looking down at Rumi’s face. She reached towards a few bottles of concealers and eyeliners, pursing her lips in consideration. Picking up a concealer, Mira uncapped it and bent over a tad to begin applying it before stopping, scrunching her eyebrows together.

“... Everything okay?” Rumi said, trying not to fidget for the sake of being a good guinea pig.

“Yeah, I just don’t want to tweak my back being hunched over.” Mira capped the concealer, looking around the room for some solution. Her eyes landed on her bed. It was a king sized mattress with plenty of room for Mira to stretch her long legs and was outfitted with cool purple bedding. A smile began to creep onto her lips.

“Hey, can you get on the bed instead? It might be comfier?” she gestured to it with one hand, gathering up makeup in the other. Rumi’s brows scrunched together in confusion, but she nodded, standing up and sitting obediently on the soft bedding.

Gathering up a plethora of products, Mira dumped them out next to Rumi and waved her hand toward the pillows at the head of the bed. 

“Lay down, get comfy.” Her voice left no room for protests.

“Okayyyy …” Rumi shuffled up onto the bed fully, sitting with her legs splayed out in the middle of it. Mira’s smile took on a scheming edge, crawling up onto the bed herself and towards Rumi. It reminded Rumi of a tiger stalking its prey.

“No, no. I said get comfy .” Mira planted a hand on Rumi’s chest, giving her a shove and making her lie prone. Before she could even ask, Mira swung one sinfully long leg over her hips, fully straddling Rumi. She settled with a hum, her weight pressing down warm and perfect. “There. Much better. Now, lay back and close your eyes.”

Not trusting her words, Rumi slammed her eyes shut. She was following Mira’s instructions, but it also saved her from going into cardiac arrest at the sight of one of her perfect, beautiful best friends sitting on top of her. The sensation alone had her heart hammering in her chest and golden light pulse through her patterns in the same tempo.

“ Relaaaax , baby,” Mira drawled, warm and smooth like American whiskey. Rumi felt rather than saw her lean forward, the warm weight pressing down even more. “I can’t do your makeup if you’re all scrunched up like that.”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about. I’m relaxed. Totally relaxed.” Rumi said, trying to force a nonchalant tone. She failed miserably, if Mira’s low chuckle indicated anything. Nevertheless, she managed to relax her face and calm her breathing.

“Good girl. Now keep those eyes closed.”

Oh fuck fuck fuck fuck fuuuuuuck

If Rumi didn’t have years of training and experience keeping herself composed in stressful situations, she would have melted. Or disintegrated. Or exploded. Imploded? She wasn’t sure. All she knew was that she was feeling a lot of things at exactly the same time. Outwardly she was relaxed and still, feeling the beginnings of brushes, creams, and powders being painted across her skin. Internally she was screaming, crying, sweating, and shaking. In a good way. Somehow.

It would have been easy to zone out and let Mira work, given that Rumi had gotten her makeup professional done at least a thousand times. She was used to being a perfect canvas for someone to draw and paint on, whether it took minutes or hours. There was something odd about the sensation of Mira’s work, though. 

Whereas Rumi would usually feel her entire face being worked on evenly, Mira was dragging lines of what felt line concealer semi-randomly across her face. It wasn’t until there was a cool line applied from her hairline all the way down to her eyebrow that she realized what Mira was doing.

She’s putting makeup on my patterns.

Rumi tried not to feel like her heart was shattering. She really did. Maybe Mira was just testing how full coverage a concealer was? It would be impressive if a concealer could hide the patterns without her feeling like it was caked on. There were so many rationalizations going on in Rumi’s head, but none of them chased away the ache.

Swallowing the lump forming in her throat, Rumi managed to keep her voice even. “Do you think my patterns are too much?”

Truthfully, she was terrified of the answer. Mira didn’t sound phased, however.

“No. They suit you. And us. We’re super badass hunters and they make you look like a tiger.”

“A tiger?”

“Yeah. Like an actual one. Not a weird blue one that drools everywhere and drinks out of the toilet.” Rumi’s eyes flew open, causing Mira to jerk her hand away and straighten up a bit to avoid messing up her work.

“He drinks out of the toilet?”

“I said keep your eyes closed.” Mira said, pointing a makeup brush at Rumi like a weapon. Rumi rolled her eyes and closed them again. After a moment, the brush strokes and Mira’s voice continued. “So like, technically no. He definitely wanted to. He’s super slow, so I managed to stop him.”

“There truly are no thoughts in his head.”

“Nope.” Mira said, popping the P. There were sounds of her recapping tubes and shuffling items around before she began applying different products. “What about you? What thoughts are going on in your pretty head right now?”

Pretty. She thinks I’m pretty. Does she think I’m prettier without the patterns?

“Just … how everybody sees me now with my patterns out in the open. Celine sees me as a mistake, our fans see me as some scarred damsel, you guys see me as … well, I don’t know. Damaged? Pitiful?”

“Nah, I think they’re sexy.”

“... What?” Rumi felt like her heart stopped, but she managed to keep her eyes closed.

“I said what I said. Zoey agrees.”

“Then why –”

“Open your eyes.” Mira cut her off, stopping her train of self-deprecation before it could even start. Taking a deep breath, Rumi let her eyes flutter open, seeing her reflection in the hand mirror that Mira held out for her.

As it turns out, Mira wasn’t using concealer to cover the patterns. Instead, she had painted along the edges to make them sharper and more striking. There was a shimmer to the stripes as well, done by carefully dusting them with eyeshadows and adding more dimension. Squinting a bit, Rumi noticed something strange. Not only were her patterns now more vibrant and pronounced, there were also lines that weren’t there before. At first she was confused, wondering how new ones showed up out of nowhere before a realization struck her like lightning.

Mira had added more stripes to her patterns.

Carefully painted, matching the semi-random curves and points and complimenting the more prominent stripes. Before Rumi could stop herself, her eyes began watering and her breath hitching. She covered her mouth with her hand, holding back an overwhelmed sob. Mira’s cool smugness faltered, peaking around the hand mirror with a face full of concern.

“Rumi? Is it okay?”

A strange mix of a hiccup, sob, and laugh escaped Rumi’s throat. She looked up at the ceiling and away from her reflection, fanning her face to try and prevent tears from spilling and ruining Mira’s hard work.

“It’s – yes, it’s beautiful. I love it.” Taking a deep, shuddering breath, she took the hand mirror from Mira and looked down at her reflection again. There she saw herself, teary eyed and smiling with the validation of her best friends painted clearly across her face. A laugh punctuated with a sniffle bubble up from Rumi, setting the mirror aside. Sitting up, she flung her arms around Mira, no longer caring about the suggestiveness of their seating arrangement.

“Thank you, Mira. You made me look beautiful.”

“Oh, unnie,” Mira’s arms wound around Rumi in return, squeezing her tight in a way Rumi never experienced as a child. She cradled the back of Rumi’s head, tucking it into the crook of her neck. “You already are beautiful.”

“I didn’t feel like it. I do now.”

“Like you always should.” Rumi felt lips press a soft kiss on her temple, right on her hairline. She let out another shuddering breath as another swell of affection burst inside of her ribcage.

They held each other in silence for a short while, until the wet hitches in Rumi’s breath subsided naturally. When they part, Mira pressed another kiss on her face, this time on her forehead. Rumi’s patterns flared soft gold. They paid it no mind.

“C’mon. I want to show Zoey how pretty our unnie is.” Mira grasped Rumi’s hand, dismounting from her lap and tugging them both to their feet.

Rumi nodded with a smile, ready to show the people she loved how proud she was to be herself.

Chapter Text

Ever since Celine’s blow up, the energy in the penthouse had changed a bit.

It was like Celine walked in and ripped away the flimsy bandage Rumi had managed to slap over her heart after the idol awards. While Rumi was used to the ache, the reality of the decades-long wound hit Mira and Zoey like a slap to the face.

After Rumi had finished showing off Mira’s expert makeup skills, the three of them curled up on the couch with their bowls of steaming hot tteokbokki, shoulders to shoulders despite the couch being able to fit at least a dozen people. The tteokbokki did in fact taste like the kind they got in Daegu, becoming their main focus while they ate in between bouts of cooing over Rumi’s makeup. It was laughing, giggling, and feeding each other bits of rice cake while seeing who could make the best airplane noises.

When the bowls were emptied, the laughs subsided. The jovial energy ebbed away into something a bit heavier. Zoey had her head on Rumi’s shoulder, idly toying with Rumi’s hand and looking at the patterns weaving through her fingers. Mira was on Rumi’s other side, doing the same fidgeting but with the end of Rumi’s braid.

All of Rumi’s hair was perfectly smooth and neatly woven, but the image of Rumi panicked and crying with the purple strands in disarray stuck in their minds. The unspoken words hung heavy in the air, making Rumi’s mind real with something to say to break the silence. Luckily, Mira was faster.

“We’re so, so sorry, Rumi.” Mira’s voice was quiet, but had a depth that only came from an aching heart.

“What do you mean? Sorry for what?”

“For everything.” Zoey cut in, no longer fidgeting with Rumi’s hand and instead winding their fingers together. Zoey honestly looked like she was about to cry. “For everything we did and everything we didn’t do.”

“That’s not your fault.” Rumi said hastily, squeezing Zoey’s hand tight. “And I know it's not mine, either. Celine made me lie to you, made me hide what I am.”

“She made you lie by telling you we would hate you, that we wouldn’t understand.” Mira shuffled closer, setting her head on Rumi’s other shoulder and snaking her arms around Rumi and Zoey both. “And when you were scared and vulnerable, we proved her right. We raised our weapons at you and acted like you were a monster.”

“We kept trying to make you perform a hateful song that was practically insulting you to your face.” Zoey continued, her breaths taking on a weak tremble as she held back tears. “Yeah, it was Celine’s fault. But we still did it.”

“Celine sucks. Like, a lot.” Mira mumbled against Rumi’s shoulder.

Reaching up with her free hand, Rumi found Mira’s cheek and held her palm to it. She leaned her head against Mira’s, enjoying the comfort with a sad smile. Rumi was a bit surprised she hadn’t started crying herself, but she figured she might have hit her crying maximum for the day. Now, she just felt bittersweet peace.

“Well, she didn’t do everything bad. At least she didn’t kill me when I asked her to.”

The silence was deafening.

Rumi had at least expected a little bit of a laugh. She made sure to use her “dark humor to cope” tone of voice.

But Mira and Zoey were dead silent and any bit of laxness they had was evaporated. Zoey straightened up, moving almost mechanically to meet Rumi’s eyes.

“You … asked her to kill you?”

Rumi let out an awkward laugh at the question, but Zoey was very much not laughing. She cleared her throat, realizing that this was not a “laugh it off” kind of conversation.

“Y-Yeah. After I ran off from you guys. I found her and uh,” Rumi explained haltingly, not sure how to feel about the shell shocked expressions Mira and Zoey were pinning her down with. Her gaze fell to her lap, away from their prying stares. “Offered her my sword? So she could, eh, fix everything.”

“Rumi,” Mira’s hand slid under Rumi’s chin, lifting it up and making Rumi meet their eyes again. “You thought that things would be fixed … when you were dead?”

“I mean, I broke the Honmoon, didn’t I?” Rumi’s voice had turned small and weak. Her eyes began to burn in a way that indicated maybe she hadn’t hit that crying maximum for the day. Apparently, that had been the wrong response, given how affronted Mira and Zoey looked.

“No, Rumi!” Zoey’s hands grabbed Rumi’s face, pulling her gaze away from Mira and squishing hard enough for her lips to pucker. Rumi could feel her makeup smudging against Zoey’s palms. “That Honmoon was old and superficial! Trying to keep it intact was hurting all of us, just like Celine.”

Mira squeezed Rumi and Zoey in her embrace, butting her forehead gently against Rumi’s temple. “Don’t you ever, ever think like that again. We won’t let you. Screw the old Honmoon, screw Celine. We don’t ever have to think of them again.”

“If Celine ever tries to come near you or make you feel that way again, I will stab her.” Zoey said, ever so threatening with her tiny sniffles, quivering lips, and teary eyes. “Multiple times. In the face. Like, really hard.”

Rumi let out a single, incredulous laugh, smiling wide at Zoey’s lack of hesitation and total conviction. “You kinda already cut her face.”

“Barely.” Zoey grumbled. She released Rumi’s face, scrubbing at the tears that had dripped down her own. Tucking her head back into Rumi’s neck, she pressed her nose against Rumi’s pulse where it hid under a bold, shimmering stripe. “I love you so much, Rumi.”

“We both do.” Mira added, gathering Rumi closer in her arms until she was practically in her lap. “So, so much. Don’t ever think otherwise.”

And in that moment? There wasn’t a chance that she could. Not when she was surrounded by Mira and Zoey and their warmth. Not when Zoey tucked so perfectly against her and she fit so well in Mira’s arms. Rumi actually wished she wasn’t wearing makeup then, so that she could better feel the softness of their skin against her cheeks.

Shifting so that Zoey could better curl around her and Mira could hold her closer, Rumi let out a shaky sigh and let her eyes flutter closed. There was a telltale tingling across her patterns that let her know she was glowing. A quick glance would show a beautiful, warm gold painted across them, pulsing softly along with her heartbeat.

“I love you guys, too. More than I think I’ve ever loved anybody.”

“Even more than Derpy?” Zoey said, smiling against Rumi’s neck and running her fingers across the glowing gold on Rumi’s collarbones.

“... Okay, maybe not that much.”

“ Hey! ” Zoey reared back in false offense, trying to portray a look of utter betrayal. “I am way more adorable than Derpy!”

Rumi gave a shrug as if to say “sorry not sorry” but couldn’t hold back her wide smile. With another exaggerated sputter, Zoey shoved Rumi away, but only succeeded in toppling her fully into Mira’s lap. Mira took this in stride, sweeping Rumi up into her arms, the task made easy due to Rumi’s laughter making her useless to resist.

“Gentle, Zoey! We need her in one piece if we’re gonna marry her one day!”

“We can get married after she admits I’m way cuter than Derpy!”

All Rumi could do was laugh even harder, even as Mira started running around the living room still carrying her while Zoey chased behind, still demanding that Rumi call her the cutest. For once, the tears streaming down her face weren’t from sadness and she was too distracted by her own glee to care if it ruined her makeup.

Eventually, they exhausted themselves. Rumi felt as if she had gotten a full ab workout from laughing and Mira and Zoey were worn out by running around. They all collapsed onto the couch in a heap, tangled in each other and panting as they caught their breath.

“Okay, I give. You’re way cuter than Derpy.” Rumi said, once she felt like her lungs weren’t on fire. She tried to reach over and pat Zoey on the top of her head but ended up missing, accidentally bopping Zoey on the nose. Zoey let out a grunt, catching Rumi’s hand and guiding it to rest on her cheek.

“I’m glad you’ve come to your senses. We can now start planning the wedding.” Rumi let out a hum, nodding along.

“Cool. Sounds great. Make sure the cake is chocolate.”

“For you?” Mira said, tucking a strand of Rumi’s hair behind her ear and pressing a kiss to her forehead.  “Anything.”

Chapter Text

Rumi woke up to the sound of her door opening.

She had always been a light sleeper, to both her advantage and detriment. It was great when you needed to be on your feet with a sword in hand at any moment, but awful when life never really got fully quiet. While she didn’t drink nearly as many energy drinks as Zoey did on the regular, she definitely survived off of them from time to time.

But during their hiatus? Rumi was catching up on sleep. A lot of it. There were no demons to slay, no live performances to rehearse, and no ungodly early international flights to rush to the airport for. The only thing interrupting Rumi’s blissful slumber was …

“Zoey? Is that you?” Rumi called out, lifting her head up from where it was smashed into the pillow. She could feel the dried drool on the corner of her mouth. It was a good sleep.

“Make room. I’m sleepy.” Zoey said, in lieu of answering properly. She was already shuffling over to Rumi’s bed, dressed in a far too large shirt and with her hair braided into two tails like she did every night before bed.

“Zoey it’s–” Rumi squinted at the digital clock on her nightstand, also noting the first pinks of a sunrise bleeding up into the sky. “-six in the morning. Why are you even up?”

Zoey was only ever up at 6am if she hadn’t actually gone to bed yet. There had been dozens of instances where Rumi and Mira hobbled sleepily into the living room in the morning to see Zoey with headphones on and notebooks scattered everywhere next to a concerningly large collection of empty energy drink cans. The fact that her hair was braided and she was barely able to pick her feet up enough to walk to the bed was a clear indicator that this was not one of those times.

“Mira woke up early to do her stupid sunrise yoga.” Zoey grumbled, lifting up the blankets and letting in the chilly air from their overenthusiastic AC. Rumi didn’t have to deal with the discomfort for long, though. Zoey shamelessly burrowed under the covers, wrapping herself around Rumi like a sleepy koala. Any heat that might have escaped had been thoroughly replaced. “I need cuddles or I’ll die.”

“Really? You’ll die if you don’t get cuddles?” Rumi said, entirely unconvinced. That didn’t stop her from eagerly reciprocating the cuddling, internally in awe at how perfectly Zoey fit in her arms.

“Horrifically. In pain. Tragically. Do you want that on your conscience?” Rumi let out a huff of a laugh, tightening her arms around Zoey and making her let out a pleased little sigh.

“No, I definitely do not. I will provide the cuddles you need to survive.”

“Yaaaaay.” Zoey mumbled, eyes already dipping closed and her cheek squished against Rumi’s collarbone. Rumi was suddenly hyper aware of the tiny puffs of Zoey’s breath against her skin and how Zoey’s skin is always softer than what she could imagine.

Despite the hammering of her heart and the tingling of the golden light dancing across her patterns, Rumi relaxed and let her eyes slip closed. A part of her wants to press a kiss atop Zoey’s head, but she was too afraid of crossing a line. Sure, Zoey and Mira had been peppering her with kisses for ages. They especially loved planting them on her patterns to show her their acceptance of them. They also had developed a habit of giving her cheek and forehead kisses before bed.

Okay, so maybe it wouldn’t be crossing a line. Unfortunately, Rumi was still a coward.

Something else was bugging her, though.

“Zoey?

A sleepy, questioning hum in response.

“Why did Mira waking up cause you to wake up, too?”

Zoey cracked one eye open, looking up at Rumi with a strange expression. After a solid ten seconds of awkward silence, Zoey clumsily reached up to press her palm over Rumi’s face. It forced Rumi to close her eyes again, lest one of them get jabbed out.

“You’ll figure it out eventually. Sleepy time.”

Chapter Text

During their hiatus, Huntr/x did not make a habit of leaving their tower.

It was a huge building and with the amount of delivery services and assistants to run errands for them, leaving wasn’t really necessary and becoming stir crazy was a long shot. Whenever they got tired of the couch (which was almost never) they had multiple lounges, large bedrooms, and plenty of outdoor terrace space to hobble over to.

Given that it was a beautiful day out, warm with a breeze to leave a fresh feeling across their skin, they were all occupying one of the communal terraces rather than the ones each of them had connected to their bedrooms. This one was much larger, even bigger than Rumi’s, and was home to a plethora of potted plants and flowerbeds. They were all sprawled out on the luxurious outdoor couches, tucked safely under an awning that kept the rain and sun away.

The sun was just beginning to lower, painting the Seoul skyline in rapidly shifting purples and pinks. They had finished their dinner an hour or so ago and were in their pajamas, though they hadn’t actually changed out of them from when they woke up that morning. Zoey was in a too big shirt that Rumi swore she saw Mira buy the month before and Mira was in a comfy sweater with pajama shorts that showed off just how long her legs were. Rumi herself was in a tank top and shorts set that had been subject to a great deal of staring all day.

Each of them had a mostly finished bottle of soju within arms reach, all of them sporting a pleasant buzz but nowhere near the level of drunk they got when they turned their state of the art in house recording studio into a noraebang. Zoey was in an extra squishy armchair, slouched with her feet kicked up on to Derpy while he laid on the ground and Mira was entirely horizontal, her head on Rumi’s lap as she stared blankly up at the awning above them, Sussie was … somewhere, doing something. He tended to be rather independent.

Zoey knocked back the last of her strawberry soju, glaring at the empty bottle afterwards. “Eugh. Fresh out.”

“Want me to grab you another?” Rumi asked, shaking her own near empty bottle. Zoey shook her head.

“Nah, I’m not in a ‘get drunk’ mood tonight.” Zoey leaned down to set the bottle on the ground, dropping it a little too soon and watching it wobble over and fall on its side. On cue, Derpy very slowly lifted his head and stared at the overturned bottle, pupils dilating into saucers. Zoey immediately reached back down and righted it before her tiger shaped footrest got up to try doing it himself. She regarded the bottle for a moment, pursing her lips in thought and then perking up.

“Hey, wanna play spin the bottle?” she said with a mischievous grin, picking the bottle back up and wiggling it towards Mira and Rumi. Mira let out a little snort.

“Zo, there’s only three of us. It’d just be us kissing each other over and over.”

“Would that be so bad?” Zoey carefully placed the bottle back down, an exaggerated pout replacing her smile.

“You know,” Rumi said, idly toying with a strand of Mira’s hair. “I’ve never actually kissed anyone.”

Zoey and Mira’s eyes locked onto Rumi, wide and shocked. Mira was the first to speak, sitting up to better look at Rumi.

“Really? Not even Jinu?”

“Yeah, weren’t you guys, like, super in love or something?” Zoey was now leaning forward, taking her feet off of Derpy. Rumi let out a single, incredulous laugh.

“No, I did not kiss Jinu. I didn’t do anything like that with him.” she paused, looking down at her bottle of soju and swirling the sweet smelling liquid around. “I wouldn’t say we were in love. I think …” Rumi tapered off, feeling the residual ache of grief in her chest. “I think we could’ve, if we’d had more time with each other. There was too much going on for anything like that to happen.”

Zoey gave a sage nod. “But you cared for each other?”

“... Yeah. A lot, given the short time.” Rumi tried to ignore the way her eyes burned a bit, her patterns flashing a faint, deep indigo. While panic and anger turned them into harsh reds and sickly purples, pure sadness like the kind she felt thinking of Jinu’s death made them more somber blues. She felt the gentle touch of Mira’s hand laying atop hers.

“Y’know, as bad as the circumstances were, I’m glad you had him. He was there for you in a way we weren’t when you needed it most.” Rumi flipped her hand over, squeezing Mira’s.

“I know you would have if you’d known.”

“If we had known, maybe none of this mess would have happened in the first place.” Zoey grumbled, crossing her arms. “Just thinking about it makes me want to key her car again.”

“I’m sorry, what?”

“Actually, can it be called ‘keying’ someone’s car if you use magic demon killing knives to do it?”

“Zoey, did you key Celine’s–”

“Anyway! Glad you had Jinu!” Mira interjected, redirecting the conversation. “So, you’ve never kissed anyone?”

Rumi’s eyes narrowed at Mira, then Zoey. She elected to revisit the “committing vandalism” part of the conversation later. “When would I have had the chance? I couldn’t even let myself get too close to you guys, much less someone else.” Rumi said with a shrug. “Have you kissed anyone before?”

“Yep.” Zoey answered. “My first kiss was with my date at prom.”

“Wait. Prom? I thought that was a thing that only existed in American movies.” Mira said, eyebrow raised.

“Oh, no. It’s very real. So is the prom king and queen thing. I only got to go for one year before I moved out here to work with you guys.”

Rumi let out a little huff. “That’s so weird.”

“Okay, little miss homeschooled.” Zoey shot a glare at Rumi, an indignant look on her face. She turned towards Mira. “What about you, little miss expensive private school? When was your first kiss?”

“... After I joined Huntr/x.” Zoey looked genuinely shocked, staring at Mira with wide eyes.

“ That was your first? Oh my god.”

Rumi looked between the two, eyebrows furrowing. “What? Who was it with? We were always so busy, especially when we were pre-debut.”

“Oh, someone really special.” Mira said, with an exaggerated lovestruck expression. Zoey let out a snort, covering her mouth with her hand. “Super sweet, super cute. Kind of a goblin.”

Rumi squinted at Mira, racking her brain for who that could have been. They had been very isolated, pre-debut, constantly training with Celine in her remote villa in both performing and fighting. Sure, there were times when they snuck out past curfew to do dumb things like bonfires and night swims in the nearby creeks, but they were always glued to each others’ sides. A dull, flickering lightbulb went off in Rumi’s head.

“Honestly, it kinda sounds like Zoey.” Rumi said, immediately letting out a little chuckle at how absurd the idea was. When she looked towards Mira and Zoey, she jolted when she was met with two deadpan, unamused stares. Rumi’s face began to burn, initiating her flustered rambling. “I mean! If it was, it’d be fine. I’m totally cool with girls kissing other girls. Guys, too! Guys kissing other guys is alright with me, too. I didn’t mean–”

“Would you want to kiss other girls, Rumi?” Mira interrupted, seemingly studying Rumi’s face and reactions. Rumi’s word vomit halted in its tracks, leaving her a little stunned.

“I mean,” Rumi stuttered, patterns beginning to light up. She didn’t dare look down to see what color. “I wouldn’t be opposed.”

“What about Zoey?”

“Huh?”

“What about Zoey?” Mira repeated. “Would you be opposed to kissing her?”

Various, half formed sounds climbed up from Rumi’s throat. She wasn’t sure what color her patterns were, but she knew for a fact that her face was bright red. Her mind was overloaded with thoughts, specifically about kissing Zoey and wondering if her lips were as soft as her skin.

Fuck. They were probably even softer.

“Or Mira.” Zoey added, not allowing Rumi to catch up to her own thoughts at all. “Kissing Mira is–” she cut herself off, amending her statement. “Kissing Mira would be nice, I bet.”

“I wouldn’t mind kissing either of you!” Rumi blurted out, immediately slapping her hand over her mouth. Her ears were on fire and she could feel how sweaty her palms were. Mira and Zoey perked up, both of them leaning in towards Rumi. With Zoey, it meant she was sitting on the very edge of her armchair. With Mira, however, it meant she was only an inch or two away from looming over Rumi where they shared a couch.

“Really?” Mira hummed, finding the end of Rumi’s braid and toying with it. Logically speaking, Rumi knew hair didn’t feel sensations, but it still felt like Mira’s fiddling shot lightning up her spine. “We’d be your first. You okay with that?”

“Of course.” Rumi felt like her heart was hammering out of her chest. Mira leaned in even closer, dropping Rumi’s braid to instead trail her fingers across Rumi’s cheek. Rumi’s eyes darted towards Zoey, finding their maknae still on the edge of her seat and watching in rapt attention.

“Hmmm,” At this point, Mira’s nose was brushing Rumi’s. Unable to help herself, Rumi’s gaze darted down towards Mira’s mouth then back up, feeling pinned down by her sharp gaze. “Why is that, do you think?”

“B-Because … because,” Rumi stammered, trying to focus on speaking and not the faint vanilla scent wafting from Mira. It occurred to her that it was coming from the chapstick Mira applied religiously. Rumi wondered if it tasted as good as it smelled. “Because I trust you. And you’re my closest friends. Why wouldn’t I want to share that with my best friends?”

The explanation was flimsy at best and even Rumi found it unsatisfactory. She couldn’t think of any other reason though, not when her entire brain was going haywire and she could feel Zoey’s eyes locked onto her and Mira.

Mira was quiet for a few heartbeats, their noses brushing as she seemed to mull over Rumi’s answer. Eventually, she let out a sigh, leaning forward to press a kiss to Rumi’s cheek before retreating back to sit a polite distance away. Rumi was left reeling, staring blankly and slack jawed at Mira. Zoey made a little huff of a noise, slouching back into the armchair and blowing a piece of her hair out of her face.

“... Weren’t you going to kiss me?” Rumi asked, voice small. Mira glanced at her with a raised eyebrow, eyes darting down towards Rumi’s lips. She let out a little chuckle, shaking her head.

“I think …” she said, picking up her bottle of soju and downing the rest of it. She set the bottle back down, licking a stray drop from the corner of her lips. Rumi followed the movement of her tongue, her own mouth feeling dry. “I think you need to figure some stuff out first, unnie.”

“Oh.” Rumi looked down at her bottle, seeing her patterns shift between gold, light pink, and teal. She had no idea what Mira was implying. All she felt was a little bit of disappointment, even if she was unsure why.

***

“I think you need to figure some stuff out first, unnie.”

That sentence was on repeat in Rumi’s mind. It had been ever since they cleaned up their bottles and put the protective covers back on the terrace furniture. It stuck and looped while Rumi bid Mira and Zoey good night, while she showered before bed, while she scrolled through her phone looking at the random memes Zoey sent to the groupchat throughout the day, and over and over and over.

“What in the world am I supposed to be figuring out?” Rumi asked aloud, heard only by herself and Sussie. Sussie was perched atop her bedside lamp, watching as Rumi had an internal crisis and scribbled frantically in a notebook.

For the past hour, Rumi had drawn flowcharts, numbered lists, and written random stream of conscience blips trying to sort out what Mira might have meant. None of it helped and Rumi found herself scratching it all out, covering the page in scribbles that nearly ripped through the paper. She was about to chuck the entire notebook across the room but managed to stop herself, sighing and flipping to a blank page. She tapped her pen against the paper, trying to channel her thoughts more coherently. Slowly, carefully, she started writing.

Why didn’t she kiss me when I wanted her to?

Why did I want it and want more, too?

I look at them both and I see forever

I see pink lips, warm eyes, fingers laced together

I’m dream of their touch, their voice, their taste

I can feel my cheeks ache from joy on my face

My soul is floating, flying, over clouds above

I look at them and I know it’s–

“Love.” Rumi said, feeling like the word was punched out of her. She stopped just short of writing the word, staring at the blank space on the paper where it would go. She set down the pen with a shaking hand, pushing the notebook off to the side. The realization had her burying her face in her hands, completely stricken by her self-discovery.

“Oh my god.” Rumi felt like her body was full of electricity, her breath hitching in her throat. “Oh my god.” she repeated. She turned towards Sussie, looking near feral. “I love them. Like, really love them. Do they love me?”

Sussie gave her a deadpan stare, all six eyes narrowed. Unlike Derpy, Sussie was an active participant in conversations sometimes. They weren’t entirely sure what level of intelligence Sussie had, but given that they watched him successfully make microwave popcorn on his own, they knew it was high.

“But that’s–” Rumi shot up from the bed, pacing and running her fingers through her hair, messing up her braid. “That’s not possible! They’re them and I’m me. ”

“You somehow keep getting more and more beautiful.” 

“Oh, unnie. You are already beautiful.”

“I love you so, so much.”

“We need her in one piece if we’re gonna marry her one day!”

Oh, shit.

“Oh, shit.” Rumi said aloud. Sussie rolled his eyes as if to say “finally”. Rumi turned towards him. “I need to talk to them, don’t I?”

The look Sussie shot her could only be interpreted as “duh, idiot.”

“Okay. I’m gonna go talk to them. Wish me luck.” Rumi felt like she needed every last bit she could get. She felt more like she was walking towards her own execution rather than a heart to heart with her best friends(?)

Steeling herself, she left her room and headed towards Zoey’s, reasoning that it was the closest and therefore would be the quickest bandaid to rip off. She saw the door cracked and pushed it open, slow and careful.

“Zoey?”

There was no answer, the lights off and Zoey’s bed empty. A further peek showed that she wasn’t in her bathroom, either, considering the door was open and those lights were off, too. Rumi pursed her lips, feeling a bit dejected and reasoning that Zoey might have holed herself away in the studio to fiddle with some lyrics that she suddenly thought up. It would be far from the first time.

Knowing Mira was a creature of habit who stayed in her room once she turned in for the night, Rumi took a deep breath and hobbled further down the hall towards her door. She could see it cracked a few inches and the lights on and spilling out through it. Rumi ignored the feeling of her palms and the back of her neck sweating. If she didn’t get this done there and then, she would lose her mind. She had to do this.

Reaching out, she pushed the door open, ducking her head in. “Hey, Mira? Can I–”

Rumi halted, eyes going wide like a deer in headlights.

Any questions of where Zoey might be were answered, given that the answer was in Mira’s bed, on top of Mira. The two were looking at Rumi with equally shell shocked looks, having just pried their mouths apart when they heard Rumi’s voice. They had clearly been going at each other for a while, given how swollen their mouths looked and the fact that Zoey’s hand was burrowed under Mira’s shirt. Zoey’s hair had been pulled loose, messy and flowing down her back.

“Uh. Hey, Rumi.” Zoey said, cutting through the heavy silence. Both her and Mira were completely frozen, looking as flustered as Rumi felt. Her eyes darted towards Rumi, then Mira, then back to Rumi. “This is, uh,” she stammered, clearly scrambling for an explanation. “This is just–”

“This is exactly what it looks like.” Mira cut her off. Zoey let out a choked noise, whipping around to stare incredulously back at Mira. Mira met the look, quirking her eyebrow. “What? It is.”

“Soooo,” Rumi drawled, knees feeling weak and barely keeping her voice steady. “I think we need to talk.”

Chapter Text

Celine’s estate, 23 days until debut

Mira was sprawled out on an old corduroy couch in the den of Celine’s remote, antiquated house, still in sweatpants with her hair pulled high and tight from their earlier training. Zoey was sitting on the ground, sifting through the shelves of DVDs in the entertainment center. Celine apparently didn’t believe in cable or streaming services and when Zoey asked, she said the three needed to focus on training rather than watching TV all day.

Which, okay, fair. They had a huge task in front of them and a lot of rigorous training to do and Zoey was absolutely the type to spend entire days binge watching animal documentaries and reality TV shows. Their only available source of video entertainment was a decent collection of DVDs that the Sunshine Sisters watched during their tour days that Celine never got rid of. Watching things on their phone wasn’t much of an option either, since the cell signal and wifi was too piss poor to stream anything. While their options were limited compared to having a Netflix account, they still had a decent selection.

“Is Rumi coming at all?” Zoey asked, shuffling through the colorful plastic cases. Mira made a vague grunting noise that translated to “no”

“Celine said she had some other training stuff to do with her.”

“That’s dumb.” Zoey grumbled. She shoved the Korean titles to the side, looking through the considerable amount of English ones Celine had stowed away. “You’d think she’d need less training than us, considering she’s been with Celine her whole life.”

“I think perfectionism runs in their family.” Mira said, face half buried into the couch cushions. “Our faults and fears–”

“-Must never be seen.” Zoey finished with the kind of exhaustion that only came from hearing that phrase at least a dozen times per day.

Thinking about it, who knows how many times Rumi has heard it? She was raised by Celine and knew for as long as she could remember that she was to be a hunter and performer. While Mira and Zoey were talented before they ended up under Celine’s tutelage, they were nothing compared to Rumi’s long honed skills and expertise.

If anything, Zoey and Mira thought they would be the one putting extra hours into training.

At first, they were worried Rumi would be too uppity, too untouchable and while she was guarded, Mira knew it wasn’t for any of those reasons. Rumi was, bluntly put, sheltered as fuck. Raised isolated, school privately, trained one on one. Celine kept her at arms length at all times and even when Celine wasn’t there, Rumi behaved as if she was watching.

It took weeks to convince Rumi to break curfew to go goof off in the nearby creek. She still chose to keep her pajamas on and get them soaked rather than strip down to her underwear like Zoey and Mira.

To their disappointment. Rumi was already stunning. Seeing her in any state of undress would have been a blessing.

“Oh, how about this one?” Zoey’s voice pulled Mira out of her own musings. She shifted on the couch, flopping to sprawl out onto her beg with her long legs dangling over the arm.

“Spiderman?” She said, squinting at the case Zoey was excitedly wiggling.

“The Tobey Maguire Spiderman!”

“Is that one somehow better?”

“It’s iconic, Mira. It’s where the Spiderman kiss comes from.”

Mira’s eyebrows scrunched together, still not comprehending. “Spiderman kiss?”

“Yeah! The whole thing where Spiderman is dangling upside down and Mary Jane - oh, is this spoilers?” Zoey cut herself off. After barely half a second of pondering, she shook her head. “No, this came out in like 2002. I think spoiler rules don’t apply anymore. Anyway! Mary Jane kisses Spiderman when he’s upside down and it’s super romantic!”

“Pfft. Sounds more awkward than anything.” Mira said with a lighthearted scoff. Zoey looked personally offended.

“Nuh-uh! It was soooo dreamy. You’ll see.” Zoey was already opening the case, popping the disc out and slotting it into the DVD player. Rather than disturbing Mira’s sprawl on the couch, Zoey merely backed up against it, sitting on the floor with legs crossed. Her head was right next to Mira’s. Close enough that Mira could smell the sweet scented shampoo Zoey used.

They sat like that as they watched the movie, Zoey offering little tidbits of commentary and fun facts as the movie continued. Mira was just grateful for the subtitles, given that her English listening skills were still shaky. At one point, Zoey started practically vibrating, reaching over to excitedly shake Mira.

“Here it comes! The kiss!”

Mira watched, a bit underwhelmed, as the actors shared the fabled kiss. She let out a hum.

“Still seems awkward as hell.”

“Well, maybe you just have to try it!” Zoey said with a huff. “All kinds of kissing is awkward until you get the hang of it, you know?”

“Uh, yeah. Sure.” Mira nodded. She knew Zoey had dated when she lived in America and while Mira had been rebellious growing up, dating was not one of the acts of defiance she participated in.

Therefore, Mira had no idea what kissing someone was like.

“Hey!” Zoey twisted around, eyes wide and sparkling with inspiration. “We should try it!”

Mira blinked, brain stalling for a moment. “...What?”

“The Spiderman kiss! For science!” Zoey said, as if it was obvious. Mira was internally fumbling, trying to comprehend Zoey’s train of thought and failing miserably. Still, while the idea of doing a “Spiderman kiss” was not appealing, kissing Zoey in general was a much more exciting prospect.

“O … kay. For science.” Zoey lit up, clapping her hands together. It baffled Mira how casual she was about the idea of kissing.

“Shift so your head is hanging off the couch! Yes, like that. Perfect!”

Mira couldn’t tell if it was the blood rushing to her head that was making her feel a little warm and dizzy, watching Zoey shift so she was facing her. With that blindingly adorable face, Zoey shimmied up to Mira. It felt like things were moving in slow motion to Mira as Zoey leaned in, tilted her head before she finally, finally, slotted their lips together.

Mira firmly maintained that the concept was dumb, but doing it with Zoey? It felt like bliss. Her heart immediately started fluttering and she raced to commit the feeling of Zoey’s lips to her memory. When Zoey broke away, Mira had to hold back a noise of disappointment.

“Oh, that was even better than I thought.” Zoey commented, her bright smile shooting lightning down Mira’s spine. “What did you think?”

“... Your chin smushed my nose.” Mira answered, rather than waxing poetic about how soft Zoey’s lips were like she was internally. Zoey gave an exaggerated pout, crossing her arms. Throat feeling dry, Mira swallowed hard. “... Try again?”

Zoey perked back up in an instant, diving in for another attempt. It somehow felt better than the first. Her chin still smushed Mira’s nose, but Mira didn’t care. When they broke apart again, the air was a bit heavier and the movie was still playing forgotten in the background. Zoey didn’t retreat as far back and Mira’s eyes stayed locked with hers.

Smile turning into something warmer and softer, Zoey spoke quieter. “... Third times the charm?”

Mira nodded.

That’s how Zoey ended up taking her first, second, third, and countless other kisses.

***

Seoul, nine days after debut

They were at some big party, celebrating their debut with some other fresh-faced groups in the k-pop scene. It was an exclusive party, strictly attended by the music industry’s elite and Seoul’s most influential. It made it so idols could let loose, not worrying about fans or paparazzi ready to snap the next front page photo for a gossip rag.

Rumi stayed firmly in the lounge area, nursing a glass of champagne and watching the ruckus. Zoey and Mira had long since hit the dance floor, both of them with faces flushed and riding high on their successful eruption into the k-pop scene.

Mira was feeling loose and warm, fueled by the two shots she took earlier. Zoey, who wasn’t even supposed to be drinking, had her own buzz. She had drunk more than Mira yet was handling it like a champ. When Mira had asked, Zoey shrugged and smiled.

“The legal drinking age means nothing to a determined teenager in the US.”

Whatever that means.

Seeing everyone dancing, Mira wished she knew where Zoey had disappeared off to. Probably to get more drinks or just lost in the crowd of moving bodies. Her and Mira had gotten a lot closer since their shared kisses and had been sharing more and more ever since. Mira would have loved a chance to dance with her.

“Hey!” A voice shouted near Mira, barely audible over the music. She turned around, coming face to face with who she recognized was a member of a boy group Huntr/x was barely newer than. “Wanna dance?”

Taking a moment to eye him critically, Mira nodded. It was a party after all. Immediately they were chest to chest, smiling and shouting along to the music. There was enough of a buzz in Mira’s head to stop giving a shit that this was a stranger, meeting every grind and sway with enthusiasm.

Two months ago, Mira would have scoffed at the idea of ducking away with some stranger for some “fun”. Maybe it was because of her recent weeks spent “practicing” kisses with Zoey and the over-the-clothes groping that stemmed from it. Regardless, she ended up escaping into a bathroom with the guy, losing another of her firsts.

The entire thing was clumsy and rushed, jammed in a dingy room against a bathroom sink. Mira didn’t regret it, but it definitely wasn’t her best decision.

Afterwards, she smoothed her skirt down, accepted a slip of paper with a number she would never call, and went back to the party. It wound down shortly after and the three members of Huntr/x were ushered into a van, sleepy and worn out. They all showered and changed when they got back to their newly acquired penthouse, Rumi retreating to her bedroom and Mira hanging out with Zoey in hers. Without much thought, she told Zoey about the hookup.

“Oh, how was it?” Zoey was immediately invested, always ready for the juicy details.

“Meh. Wasn’t bad, wasn’t good.”

“Awhhh.” Zoey slumped, looking disappointed. “That’s no fun. My first time with a guy was like that, too. My first time with a girl, though? Amazing.”

… What?

“What?” Mira asked, dumbfounded. Zoey looked equally confused and then mortified, realizing what she just let slip.

“Oh, I mean – I just,” she was scrambling, trying to find a way to explain it away. Mira had seen Zoey spiral enough to know that was exactly what was happening.

“Zo. It doesn’t matter to me that you were with a girl.” Mira said, trying to stop the trainwreck before poor Zoey had a panic attack. “It just … took me by surprise.”

“Oh.” Zoey’s relief was visible, slumping forward and burying her face in her hands. “That’s … that’s good.”

Shuffling over to Zoey, Mira urged her to lower her hands, to stop hiding. “If anyone ever gives you shit for something like that, I will turn them into a kebab. So stop freaking out, okay?” Zoey nodded, giving a shaky smile.

“Sorry. I just got a little scared. Things like that are a lot more open back home and I just …” Zoey trailed off, her gaze drifting towards the huge windows and to the glittering skyline of Seoul just outside of them. “... It’s so different here, sometimes.”

Mira followed her gaze, taking in the huge, colorful city as well. “Things are different for me, too. My family was so rigid and cold. I think we’re all a little out of our comfort zones.” she agreed, reaching out to lay her hand atop Zoey’s. Zoey immediately flipped her hand over, squeezing Mira’s. “I wouldn’t wish to be here with anyone else, though.” 

The smile Mira got in response caused her heart to flutter, completely enamored by the sweet softness of Zoey’s face. Scooting closer on the bed, she leaned her head on Zoey’s shoulder. They both enjoyed the view and each other’s warmth, a comfortable silence blanketing the room.

Eventually, they curled up on the bed together. Before they knew it, they were kissing.

Mira gave Zoey another one of her firsts before they went to sleep.

***

Huntr/x penthouse, four days until the idol awards.

Mira was pacing. It made Zoey feel uneasy.

She didn’t like conflict. She always felt the overwhelming urge to fix things, to make people happy. That miracle doctor was unfortunately correct and Zoey felt only a little personally attacked by it.

“She is hiding something, Zo. I just know it.” Mira ranted, easily crossing the room and back in her long strides. “‘Woo, Jinu’? Why in the world would she do that?”

“Maybe she thinks he’s cute.” Zoey offered, not believing it at all herself.

“So? You think Mystery is cute, but you aren’t holing yourself away and throwing roadblocks left and right!”

“I mean, Rumi has always holed herself away, though?” Mira halted, giving Zoey a deadpan stare. “... Okay, yeah. She is acting weird. More than usual.”

Mira started pacing again, running her fingers through her hair. She had already taken her pigtails out and now it kept flopping into her face. “I just can’t figure it out and it’s pissing me off. We are so close to fixing everything and she just has this massive wall blocking us.”

“She’s probably super stressed, Mir.” Zoey set her notebook off to the side, shuffling towards the edge of the bed. She reached out towards Mira, making grabby hands. Mira stared, unimpressed, but stopped pacing. Zoey popped out her bottom lip in a pout, making grabby hands a little more aggressively. Glare softening, Mira trudged towards the bed and into Zoey’s arms, flopping on top of her. Zoey let out a little “oof!” but was fully welcome to being crushed by her tall, beautiful girlfriend.

“We’re all stressed. Mira.” she continued, stroking Mira’s hair. Mira let out a half-hearted grumble, smashing her face into Zoey’s chest. Zoey resisted the urge to make a dirty comment about it. “We’re closer than we’ve ever been to defeating Gwi-Ma. Once it’s over, we can all relax and take Rumi hostage for a spa day.”

“... I will drag that woman to a spa day, I swear to god.”

“And I will help. So just relax and focus all your energy and frustration on crushing the Saja Boys with your super sexy dance moves.” Zoey said, wiggling her eyebrows despite Mira not being able to see it. Mira lifted her head, gazing up at Zoey with her chin on Zoey’s chest.

“...Fine.” she acquiesced. “Now kiss me before I punch a hole in the wall.”

Zoey happily obliged, despite her deep appreciation for how hot Mira looked while punching things.

***

Huntr/x penthouse, three hours after Gwi-Ma’s defeat

They sat on the couch pouring their hearts out, crying, and hugging it out for as long as they could before exhaustion hit. Rumi spent a lot of it sobbing, begging them not to see her differently and Zoey and Mira squeezed her tight and assured her over and over that they didn’t. They were still Huntr/x and nothing could ever change that. Their hearts that had been ripped open and bleeding still ached, but were healing. It was as if they sat there, helping each other mend the wounds stitch by stitch.

Eventually, Rumi retreated to her room, assisted by a blue tiger(?) with a frankly massive head. Zoey took Mira’s hand once they heard the door shut, tugging her along to her room. They only managed to shuck off their jackets and shoes before collapsing into the bed and each other’s arms. Zoey was just about to fall into complete sleep when Mira’s voice caused her to stir.

“... I lied to her.”

Zoey dragged her eyes open, looking at Mira questioningly.

“When I said I didn’t feel differently about her.” Mira clarified. A dark, ugly feeling lodged itself in Zoey’s chest.

“What do you mean? You feel differently about her?” Zoey asked, voice shaking. She was going to lose her mind. They had just fixed everything. They could be happy now. They could–

“I love her more than I did before.”

Oh.

Zoey’s heart skipped a beat and all of the panic washed away. The previous fear had made her pull out of Mira’s embrace a bit, but now she was snuggling right back in.

“Me, too. I love her so, so much.” Zoey said, tucking her face into Mira’s neck. They were still a little gross and sweaty from the fighting, but she didn’t care.

“Like … enough to want to kiss her?”

Zoey pursed her lips, running her fingers up and down Mira’s arms. “... Yeah. But I don’t think that part is new. I just really, really want to kiss her now.”

“We should do it.”

“What? Kiss her?”

“Yeah.”

Zoey let out a little laugh, her breath warm against Mira’s neck. She let her eyes slip closed and nodded.

“Okay. We’ll kiss her.”

Chapter Text

“I think we need to talk.”

“Yeah, that kinda seems like a good idea.” Mira said, nodding. “Probably best without a hand on my tit.”

“I agree.” Zoey added, nodding a little more frantically. There was a tense moment of silence where Mira just stared, eyes narrowed at her.

“... That’s your cue to remove your hand from my tit, Zo.”

“Oh!” Zoey snatched her hand back as if she had accidentally touched a stove. She gave a sheepish grin and an awkward laugh, pointedly folding her hands atop her lap. “My bad.”

Another tense silence. Rumi was still staring at the two from the doorway, the only thing occurring between her ears being dial-up noises. Mira sat up, smoothing her shirt back down as Zoey crawled off of her lap. Mira gestured to the edge of the spacious bed, giving Rumi a little nod.

“So? Let’s talk.”

Taking a deep breath and wiping her damp palms on her pajama shorts, Rumi fully entered the room. Both Mira and Zoey had assumed a less … suggestive seating arrangement, sitting cross legged atop the rumpled bedding. Rumi had to force herself to do the same, resisting her long cemented habit of being prepared to bolt at the first sign of deep personal conversations. It helped that Zoey seemed equally as fidgety and nervous, keeping her hands tucked close to her body to prove she was behaving.

“So you’re … together?” Rumi finally managed to speak, finding the end of her braid and twisting it in her fingers. “How long has that been going on?”

“Officially? We got together on the day after our debut’s first anniversary.” Zoey answered sheepishly, looking like a kid being lectured in the principal’s office. “We’d been fooling around since right before debut, though.”

Rumi cocked her head, eyebrows pinching together. “‘Fooling around?’ What does that even mean?”

“Oh, uh, you know,” Zoey was looking down at her hands, tapping her pointer fingers together. “Kissing, cuddling–”

“Also fucking.” Mira added, blunt as ever. Rumi tried to be normal about hearing that, but then she thought about what that might look like and her brain felt like it was being deep fried.

“Oh. Yeah. Makes sense.” Rumi’s voice sounded weak, feeling like her soul was barely tethered to her body. After a brief pause, her jaw clicked shut and her eyes narrowed, thinking a bit harder about the logistics of everything. “Wait … no it does not!” she said, a little too loud and bristling slightly. “How in the world has this been happening for literal years without me knowing?”

“You didn’t exactly make it hard to hide.” Mira said, flipping a piece of hair out of her face. “Those walls you had up made it so you couldn’t see past them either, babe.”

Babe?? Oh, yeah. Rumi’s brain was definitely deep frying.

“It wasn’t like we wanted to hide it from you.” Mira continued, either oblivious to or ignoring the grey matter metaphorically melting out of Rumi’s ears. “Whenever things got too personal, you would run. At some point, we stopped trying to open up about it.”

“Yeah. We didn’t want to lie to you, but …” Zoey trailed off, eyes fixed downward and voice teetering on guilty. “We didn’t know how to tell you the truth, either.”

Rumi let out a weak, humorless laugh. “I think I’d be a hypocrite if I tried to be upset with you about it. I’m mostly just … surprised.”

Zoey nodded, looking relieved. “That’s fair.”

“No more hiding anymore, right?” Rumi said, tentatively reaching over to place her hand on Zoey’s knee. Zoey looked at the hand then back up at Rumi, taking a deep, grounding breath and nodding with a small smile.

“But that’s not what you came in here wanting to talk about, is it, unnie?” Ah, yes. Mira was never one for beating around the bush or lingering unnecessarily. She scooted forward on the bed, closer to Rumi. It had only been by an inch or two, but Rumi felt like the space between them shrunk by miles.

The urge to laugh everything off, to stamp down the questions and run from her personal feelings crawled up the back of Rumi’s neck, hissing into her ear. Despite the literal world shattering experience they had shared together, over two decades of insecurities were rearing their ugly heads. One of her hands reached down to the bedding, taking a fistful of it as if anchoring herself to keep from being whisked away by her fear.

“No, it’s not. At least, most of it isn’t.” Rumi said, trying to keep any weakness out of her voice. She wasn’t sure how well she was doing. Trying to calm her hammering heart, she took a meditative breath to gather her thoughts into something coherent instead of word vomit. “The way you guys have been talking and acting - towards me, that is - kind of gives off … indicators of romantic interest?” 

The last two words came out squeaky and tense, Rumi’s shoulders crawling up to her ears and her eyes scrunching shut as if she was preparing to be hit. There was a few seconds of silence as she waited for any sort of response, whether it be verbal backlash or a chorus of cherubs with a string quartet singing about true love.

What she got was Zoey damn near scream-laughing.

“I’m sorry, I’m so so sorry!” She wheezed out, doubled over as all of her lung capacity seemed to be rerouted to cackling rather than breathing properly. “I don’t - I’m not trying to laugh! It’s just–” Zoey could finish the sentence, fully folding forward and rolling onto her side. She was laughing harder than Rumi had ever seen, even harder than when Rumi would try and fail to repeat the English vine memes Zoey loved.

Rumi was trying not to spiral, but this response was not exactly ideal. She shrunk even more in on herself, face and ears burning in shame and embarrassment. Mira sensed it immediately, giving Zoey a reprimanding shove before taking both of Rumi’s hands in hers.

“I think Zoey is losing it because you phrased it so old-timey and awkward as shit.” Zoey, still laughing, managed to give a thumbs up and a nod, confirming the theory. “Not because she’s making fun of what you said. Just how you said it.”

“That’s … reassuring?” Rumi said, trying to avoid feeling a little dazed from the emotional whiplash.

“She also might be laughing because you have been dense as hell.” Another thumbs up joined the first, Zoey sprawled out on her back as her screeching wound down into full belly-laughs. Rumi’s head reared back, mouth opening and closing and only offended half noises coming out.

“ Dense?” She managed, sounding as if her ancestors had been spat upon. Mira gave her the driest, most deadpan look that she’d ever seen.

“Rumi. Unnie. Babe. You sweet, sweet child.” Mira said, her gaze boring into Rumi’s. “I keep sitting in your lap. Zoey kept saying ‘indirect kiss!’ every time you let her take sips of your drink. I sent you pictures of me trying on lingerie. Zoey literally asked you if you wanted us to get married in the spring or fall and you answered ‘fall’ with zero hesitation.”

“...Oh.”

“Yeah. Oh.”

“But I thought you had a thing for that Saja boy? The ones with the abs?”

“I had a thing for the abs specifically. Not the boy. And would you look at this!” Mira released one of Rumi’s hands to instead grab the hem of Rumi’s shirt, yanking it up enough to bare her stomach and reveal the defined planes of muscle decorated with iridescent stripes. “Wow! Those are indeed abs. I definitely have a thing for those.”

Rumi felt her face go bright red, her patterns rippling with neon pink laced with gold. She hastily yanked her shirt back down. “Alright, so maybe I missed some signs–”

“You missed the whole jumbotron we were chucking at you, unnie.” Zoey had managed to sit upright again, speaking through desperate gasps as her laughter died down and her body remembered its need for oxygen.

“I was getting to the point where I was about to outright ask to stick my tongue in your mouth.” Mira said with a huff, crossing her arms. “But knowing you, you would’ve thought I was just trying to figure out what flavor toothpaste you used.”

Rumi gave Mira a shove, looking affronted. “That doesn’t even make any sense! We use the same toothpaste!”

“You thought sharing first kisses was a normal best friends thing.”

“Okay, fine!” Rumi got up from the bed, ready to scurry away into the nearest hole and die from embarrassment. “I will not stand for these personal attacks. I am going to go die now. Derpy will inherit my potted plant collection.”

Before she could even take a step, Zoey’s hand shot out and caught her wrist. Rumi turned to see her with her face still flushed and eyes still teary from her laughing fit, a pleading puppy-dog expression on her face. Rumi sighed, sitting back on the bed and resigning herself to facing the most embarrassing misunderstanding of her life. Zoey gave her a blinding smile, releasing her wrist to instead wind their fingers together, causing Rumi’s heart to do more overwhelming flutters in her chest.

Clearing her throat, Rumi tried to focus on something other than how soft and small Zoey’s hand was in hers. “So I’m right? You guys are … romantically interested in me.”

“Yes, unnie.” Zoey answered. No laughter, no teasing, just an honest, earnest “yes”.  Rumi let out a shaking sigh, the embarrassed neon pink of her patterns bleeding away and being replaced with more gold. Zoey and Mira seemed to take this as a good sign, each scooting closer until their knees were touching Rumi’s

Rumi looked down at the hand she had entwined with Zoey, disbelief choking out all of the anxiety and fear she felt before. “Is this even allowed? All three of us?”

“It is if we say it is.” Mira answered, reaching out and taking Rumi’s other hand. She laced their fingers together, mimicking Zoey. The fluttering of Rumi’s heart was turning to full-fledged jumping and backflips. The last time Rumi felt this much joy was when she was singing Golden at the idol awards, seeing the Honmoon beginning to change and not knowing how very wrong things were about to go.

“But I’m me . Am I even allowed to have this? I’ve never been able to want something and just … been able to have it.” If it weren’t for the steady grip of her bandmates, Rumi knew her hands would be shaking. Maybe Mira and Zoey could feel the tremble, given how they held on a little tighter.

“You deserve the world and more.” Zoey said. Her free hand reached out to tilt Rumi’s chin back up, keeping her from hiding and cowering from things she deemed too good for her to keep. The amount of love and acceptance in Zoey’s eyes - and Mira’s, when Rumi’s eyes darted to her - was more than Rumi had seen from an entire lifetime with Celine. It was warmer and stronger than any of their millions of adoring fans. Rumi felt like if she never got on stage again and just had Zoey and Mira listening to her sing, she would be just as grateful and fulfilled as before.

“We’ll give you everything. You just have to ask.” Mira said. “What is it that you want right now, at this moment?”

Taking a deep breath, Rumi channeled every bit of conviction in her body. “... I want you to be my first kiss.”

A pleased smile stretched across Mira’s face. She leaned in, looking a bit like the cat that got the canary. “And why is that, do you think?”

Hearing that question again made Rumi let out a laugh before she could stop herself. It truly drove home just how oblivious she had been, how eager to convince herself that she couldn’t possibly have more than what she thought was already everything she ever wanted. Luckily, she had the real answer now.

“Because I love you. I love both of you. More than best friends, more than bandmates.” Zoey gave a happy squeal, clapping her hands together in glee.

“What about soulmates? Can we be soulmates?”

“I don’t think that’s something you decide, Zo.” Mira drawled, giving her killer side eye. Zoey immediately shot back with a pout. It made Rumi laugh again, overwhelmed at how much she loved these two women.

“Y’know what? I decided anyway. We’re soulmates.” Rumi said, determined. The pout on Zoey’s face melted away and she lunged towards Rumi, hugging her tight and giggling with pure joy. Zoey waved her hand at Mira, her entire body practically vibrating.

“Do it, Mir! Kiss her! Don’t make us wait anymore!”

“Gladly.”

Still squeezed in Zoey’s arms, Rumi watched with bated breath as MIra leaned forward and tilted her face towards hers. It seemed to happen in slow motion and all too quickly at the same time and before she knew it, she knew exactly what Mira’s vanilla chapstick tasted like. The kiss was warm and chaste, just a simple press of lips together that still somehow shattered Rumi’s entire world and caused her soul to sing. She swore she was seeing stars when Mira’s mouth retreated.

“That was the best thing I’ve ever seen.” Zoey said, completely awestruck. “Can I have my turn now?”

Rumi nodded, feeling dazed. “Yeah. Go for it.”

With absolutely no hesitation, Zoey’s lips replaced Mira’s. Rumi immediately knew she was right about one thing.

Zoey’s lips were so fucking soft .

It was unfair. Totally unfair how perfect these two were. Mira, all tall and elegant and tasting like warm vanilla and Zoey, sweet and soft and making Rumi feel like pop-rocks were fizzing in her chest. It was unfair that Rumi thought she couldn’t have this and even more unfair that she could have had this all along.

Spurred on by her own internal ranting, Rumi tilted her head and clumsily deepened the kiss, causing Zoey to let out a surprised squeak that melted into a happy hum. Taking the change as a good thing (a very, very good thing), Zoey began coaxing Rumi’s lips to move more against hers, inadvertently showing off the years of expertise she had on Rumi. It was impossible not to get lost in it, Rumi’s hands coming up to tangle in Zoey’s loosened hair while Zoey pawed at her waist.

“Woah.”

Mira’s voice jolted them out of their little piece of heaven, their lips breaking apart with an audible smack. Confusion colored Rumi’s face, looking at Mira only to see Mira looking straight back at her. Glancing down, Rumi saw exactly what was catching Mira’s attention.

All of her patterns were lit gold. Pure gold. There wasn’t a lick of any other color dancing among them, so unlike how they responded to her emotions before.

“Wow.” Zoey breathed out, completely enamored. “You got even more beautiful. That is so unfair.”

She leaned in again to resume their kissing, only to be lightly shoved back by Mira.

“Nuh uh. Don’t hog her. It’s my turn.” Zoey let out a huff but acquiesced, releasing Rumi from her embrace. Rumi didn’t have a second to miss the warmth, given how Mira was already tugging her boldly into her lap. It was a mimicry of when Mira did her make up, Rumi firmly straddled over Mira’s lap.

Rumi’s brain couldn’t keep up, especially when Mira was carding her fingers through Rumi’s already messed up braid. The kiss Mira tugged her into was like being devoured, pulling a whine from her throat that sounded so ridiculously pathetic and needy. She remembered how swollen and kiss-bruised Zoey and Mira’s lips looked when she accidentally interrupted them and wondered if she’d end up looking the same.

Small hands reached out to Rumi’s waist, steadying her and sliding to feel that little strip of skin peeking out from above her shorts where her shirt had ridden up. The skin on skin contact had Rumi whimpering again, the sound teetering close to a moan that Mira eagerly swallowed up.

“You sound so pretty, unnie. So perfect, just for us.” Zoey cooed, leaning in to press a kiss on Rumi’s bare shoulder. Even with her increased lung capacity, Rumi eventually needed to breathe, reluctantly pulling away from the kiss and taking in greedy gasps of air.

“Can I,” Rumi panted, swallowing down the dry feeling in her throat. “Can I have more?”

“Oh, Rumi. Did you not hear us before?” Mira cooed, ducking to press a wet kiss to Rumi’s jaw, right where a stripe crawled up her neck and over her cheek. Zoey tucked herself against Rumi’s back, setting her chin on her shoulder and fully wrapping her arms around Rumi’s waist. Her usual upbeat and cheerful voice turned smooth and warm right next to Rumi’s ear.

“We’re gonna give you everything .”