Chapter Text
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Rumi is a demon. She had been, all her life. There wasn’t any room for debate, because Celine reminded her time and time again.
“Cover up, Rumi.”
“They wouldn’t understand.”
“They would kill you if they found out.”
“Your patterns have spread. Put on a sweatshirt, because I don’t want to see those. Ever.”
“They are demon hunters, Rumi. Don’t be ridiculous.”
So she never let them see. Even if it meant putting distance between the two. Even if it meant she had to watch as they, inevitably, grew far closer with one another. Even if it meant her love, that flickering light in her soul that drew the three of them together, had to be ignored. The golden Honmoon was supposed to change all that. She dreamed of the day she could participate in movie nights without sweating under her sweatshirt. She dreamed of the day she could agree to the bathhouse. She dreamed of the day when they could finally be hers, and she no longer had to hide. But now, with her jacket discarded somewhere onstage, with her girls across from her, clearly heartbroken, it was clear that her dreams will never come true.
They were never supposed to know.
“I can still fix it!” As she yelled, her throat felt like it was closing in on itself, the marks on her neck etching into her skin.
The Honmoon cried in agony, its chosen Hunter so disconnected, so hurt. It rippled a hot pink, starting from Rumi’s chest- her soul- and stretching out to burn the little bit of stability that remained.
They were never supposed to see.
Rumi watched as Mira and Zoey took a step back, their eyes wide with unease, with fear. The sight caused her to break down. Her eyes began to sting as Mira’s Gok-Do raised slowly, pointing to her, a silent but stern threat. Deep down, she knew that she lost this battle. Mira is (was) her rock. Her foundation. She always knew what she wanted, and always knew how to say it. And she made up her mind. That was it.
So, Rumi turned to Zoey. Her light. Like a gentle breeze on a hot day. She always knew how to make things better. Every room she entered lit up like she glowed. But Zoey had never looked so dim as she did now, a small sob escaping her lips, as she tried to ignore Rumi’s plead.
“Zoey. Please,” Her tears began to fall, her whole body shaking as she watched Zoey eyes close for a moment, like she was in pain.
It seems Zoey made up her mind, too, as she tapped into the Honmoon to summon her knives.
Celine’s words replay in her head. How her patterns would only get her killed, how they could never see, how they wouldn’t understand. Those words always left a bad taste in her mouth, like she knew there was little truth behind them, but, still, out of fear, she held onto those words like a lifeline. And Celine was right. Again. She was a mistake. She has been, all her life. It was her fault her mother died, and now, it’s her fault the Honmoon will fall.
After all, it needs three Hunters to be functional.
But at this point, does it really matter?
What good could she possibly do? After all, the current state of the Honmoon, torn to shreds, screeching in pain, was her fault. It was all her fault.
A demon with no feelings doesn’t deserve to live.
Mira made those lyrics herself, in their messy studio. She couldn’t have been more correct.
It’s so obvious.
“I’m sorry,” Her voice cracked, her throat engulfed in spreading pain, “I’m so sorry,” Tears continued to fall down her face, which was now littered with patterns. Those disgusting patterns. Their very existence made her want to throw up.
Mira and Zoey remained still. They were breathing heavy, clearly afraid to move.
For a moment, she contemplated running away. This was a battle she could not win, because it was one she was not willing to fight. She loved her girls. With her whole heart. They were there for her every day, even when she was sick, or lame, or unjustifiably sad. Even when she declined the bath house every time, they still asked. Even when she ran off, ruining their Golden performance, they welcomed her back home with loving words and reassuring touches.
They were the closest she’s ever felt to accepted, before him.
Jinu. He did this.
But why? Why after all that they shared? Why after opening up to him so much? Did she really mean that little?
If Zoey and Mira were pointing their weapons at her, like she was scum, then clearly that much was true.
She was nothing. Jinu knew that. And now, Mira and Zoey do, too.
Because she was a demon.
And she really didn’t deserve to live. Not when every other demon that crossed her path was slain. Not when she lied to her closest friends for years. Not when she made them feel so afraid that they raised their weapons.
This is why they were never supposed to see.
She wanted so much more time with them. She wanted to go to the bath house. To rot on the couch with them. To write songs, talk about nothing, or talk about everything.
She should’ve known she wasn’t worth their love. Why did she ever bother to think that?
She’s a demon. She doesn’t deserve to live.
Her patterns glowed hatefully, burning into her skin as she began to look less and less human. For a moment, Zoey’s eyes widened with concern. The pain she was in was obvious, every patch of skin where the patterns grew were bleeding at the seams. Mira’s jaw tightened as blood dripped to the floor, drop after drop.
But her weapon remained still. Like a promise, an unwavering force.
So, Rumi summoned her blade. Its very existence was cruel to her now. She never deserved to be a Hunter. She never deserved this blade, passed down by her mother. She held it loosely, noting how Mira and Zoey tensed.
Then, she dropped to her knees. Her voice didn’t sound the same, almost like it wasn’t her speaking, “Celine told me this would happen. That you wouldn’t understand,” She threw the blade haphazardly, but far away from herself. But her eyes remained on her girls, relentless and empty.
Zoey sputtered, “What are you-“
“Do it,” Rumi said it so sternly, like she was waiting to say those words for a long time, “Do it before I destroy what I swore to protect,” Her eyes shot down for a moment, another tear falling down her cheek, “Before I hurt you.”
Mira took a small step forward, “Rumi, wait-“
The half-demon squeezed her eyes shut, like it hurt to keep them open, “ Please.”
It was the same word she said to them just moments ago, but it wasn’t as convincing, like she was forcing herself to beg.
Zoey shot a glance to Mira, distressed. The pink-haired girl pursed her lips.
She spoke, steady, “Why, Rumi? Why are you asking us to…” The very thought made her stomach turn. She let the words hang.
“Because I’m a demon, Mira. Because I’m a mistake. You know this. Zoey knows this. You are Hunters, and I’m a demon. It was either we turn the Honmoon gold, and these go away, or… or you kill me. That’s always how this was going to end. And look around, Mira? Does it look like we did it? Do you still see the gold?”
Neither of them dared to take their eyes off Rumi. Zoey’s Shin-kals began to slip as she slowly let her guard down. Her voice was shaky and hoarse, “We could’ve figured this out together Rumi. We still can.”
Rumi scoffed, her patterns digging into her skin, “If that’s true, then why did you raise your weapons at me? Why were you so afraid?”
Her knives scattered into the Honmoon as they fell from her hands. She closed the gap between them, hugging her tightly, whispering in her ear, “Because I didn’t want to lose you, Rumi. Because I love you more than anything.”
“But Mira she-“
Mira quickly joined, betrayal still lingering on her face, but overridden by concern, “I wanted you to run, Rumi. I wanted you to run far away from here, somewhere safe. Because you’re right. We are Hunters, and you’re a demon. But you’re someone I never want to lose, and especially not kill,” She began sobbing as she spoke, her voice muffed by Rumi’s hair as her arms held on tight, “Why didn’t you run, Rumi?”
Another sob, and this time, when she spoke, she no longer had that lingering composure, “ Why?”
Rumi sat there for a moment, gazing at the burning Honmoon around her. Zoey and Mira were wrapped around her, crying, whispering such nice things. Things she wished she heard all her life. Like it was second nature. Like the patterns weren’t really there. But she could feel them burn into her skin. Slowly, painfully, a reminder of who she really was.
“I don’t understand.”
They hugged her tighter, like she might disappear if they let go.
“I don’t get it. Why haven’t you killed me? I’m a demon. I don’t deserve to live. You-“
Zoey interrupted, her hands grabbing Rumi’s shoulders as she leaned back and looked her in the eyes, “You’re Rumi. The same Rumi I’ve known for- like- ever. The same Rumi I love.”
“But I’m a-“
Mira, too, sat up, her gaze unwavering, but soft, “I don’t give a shit, Rumi. You could be a unicorn and I’d still love you the same. I don’t care that you’re a demon. As long as you promise something…”
Rumi smiled softly, “Anything.”
Mira held her face softly, wiping her tears, caressing her patterns, “No more secrets. No more lies. Please . You guys are like my family. No, my soulmates. There’s no one I love more. But I can’t handle the lies Rumi. Promise me. Promise me you’ll go to me- go to us- instead of keeping things bottled up.”
Zoey chimed in, a small chuckle surrounding her comment, “Yeah, and don’t try to deny it. You totally get in your head sometimes.”
Rumi, too, laughed. It was small, and strained, her voice clearly injured, “Ok. Yeah. I promise,” She glanced at both of them, her eyes filled with hope for the first time since she left the stage, “No more lies. No more secrets. I’ll tell you everything, even the weird little stuff.”
After hearing that, Zoey pulled the two girls closer, her hands clenching at the fabric of their costumes. They gladly indulged. A bright light surrounded them, like the Honmoon was rejoicing their reunion, their love. Below them, the Honmoon glowed an unfamiliar ombré. It was beautiful. It was strong. But it was limited. Around them, still, the Honmoon wept a violent pink. Screeching in pain as more and more demons seeped through. But it all came back to Namsan Tower, where a faint fire grew, and where souls began to disconnect.
Rumi stood up, leading the other girls, only wavering for a moment to make notice of their surprise outfit change. Her eyes scanned Zoey and Mira’s costumes. They were now a shiny white, that reflected the same rainbow that the Honmoon began weaving itself into. Their sleeves had patterns now, too. Something that would’ve been outlandish just hours ago… but they were overjoyed. Zoey couldn’t help but squeal when she noticed that they were now matching their leader. Mira nodded her head and made a short comment about how “badass” they looked.
This was nice. For the first time, she felt so happy, so loved, so… seen.
But they still had work to do. A lot of work to do. Rumi wasn’t worried, not one bit, because, quite frankly, she felt unstoppable. They all did, as their hands found one another’s, and their souls remained intertwined, stronger than ever.
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