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The afternoon air surrounding the penthouse was still, more so than usual. The middle of the warmest summer brings nothing but stifling heat, weighing heavily upon the atmosphere. There's nothing to be done, any concert or events once scheduled were canceled for the upcoming week due to the heatwave. Rumi hasn't left the cool of her room in several hours, lazily sleeping the suffocating heat away, as though all her energy was being drained by the sun's rays.
She's drifting into another bout of unconsciousness, when abruptly she hears the rushing of bare feet against the floor, followed by the sound of her bedroom door being slammed open.
“Celine's in the hospital!”
“What?!” She jolts from her position, nearly tripping from the blankets that she threw on the floor. Her head whips to Zoey, eyes wide and staring at her phone. Mira now stands behind her, hand pressed tightly to her mouth.
“Bobby just texted us, but he hasn't said much else…”
Grabbing her phone from the nightstand, she opens their group chat.
Hey girls, I just got word that Celine collapsed during her meeting, she's been sent to a nearby hospital.
Two minutes since their manager sent the message.
Before she can text back, a location is sent, along with a room number.
Celine in the hospital? No, that can't be right. The most active, hardworking and ever-moving woman she knows, now lying still in some hospital bed? Celine who rarely ever lets herself look weak, now unconscious. How? Did she miss any signs of illness?
Panic grips onto her throat, breath quickening, but little air makes its way into her lungs. Rumi is distantly aware of how the iridescent patterns emit a slight glow under the weight of her fear, a faint light in the darkened room.
Celine can't be sick, she can't be. She refuses to lose another parent. There's no life she can live without her. And it's only been a week since she's truly forgiven her; Celine can't be taken away so quickly again.
“Hey,” Mira's voice rings out, “Rumi, look at me.”
The phone in her hand creaks under the pressure of her nails, eyes still glued to the message.
“Look at me,” Mira moves past Zoey, laying a hand on her shoulder. Her voice commanded the room, lower than her usual register. Rumi shifts her head, not quite meeting her gaze.
“Celine will be fine, whatever it is, she will recover.”
“How can you be so sure,” Rumi murmurs out, voice laced with fear.
“Because she's Celine. She has to be fine.” Mira leaves no room for arguing, sounding more like she's trying to convince herself.
A vibration from her phone startles her, a new text from Bobby.
The doctors are running some tests on her. Will keep you updated.
That doesn't help the unease running wild in her mind, but it's better than nothing.
“Should we head over too? I don't think I can stand around just waiting for news.” Zoey finally interjects, fidgeting on the balls of her feet.
“Yes.” Rumi speaks, body moving on its own accord, grabbing the nearest jacket from the pile of clothes on her bed. Mira doesn't protest, following Rumi's lead.
Her hair is dishevelled from her nap, strands sticking out of the once neat braid. Her appearance is anything but orderly, at least, not how a public figure should look, none of them are wearing any makeup, but she can't find herself caring under these circumstances. She needs to get to Celine as soon as possible.
“I told Bobby to send a car, it should be outside.” Mira states, grabbing a hat to cover her face, handing another to Rumi. “He said he'll come as soon as he can.”
“Let's go then,” motioning the girls out the door.
– – –
The hospital walls stretch out, from the unwelcoming cold tiles to the impossibly high ceilings, with never ending hallways, and a foreboding presence that smothers her. It's already hard enough being here, but knowing that their identities can't be hidden makes it so much worse. Rumi had to give out her relation to Celine before even getting an ounce of any information. The nurses that all walk pass each gawk at the sight of Huntrix. She's had to hold Mira back from saying anything too rude, even if she also wants to express her distaste.
Rumi has had little memories associated with hospitals, after all, Celine took care of most of her own wounds, and then later on, dealing with Huntrix's own whenever she could. And even then, when they moved into the tower, fighting demons on their own, the girls so rarely became injured to the degree of needing professional intervention.
There's only two moments from her childhood that stood out to her.
Her first stems from when she was around four years old, just stepping out of being a toddler.
It was an early morning, back then. The sun still low in the horizon, before it could warm the slight chill clinging to the air. The dew drops were still settled on the grassy beds. Rumi was playing in the yard, running up and down the flowering garden while Celine was tending to some plants. Some make-belief game of her youth, pretending to battle demons, shouting in her childish voice. Celine answered back, voice deepened, mimicking a demon's own, playing along to the younger's story, all while she dug nails into dirt.
Rumi was trying to imitate the fighting stance she saw Celine practise everyday, balancing on one of the raised platforms that separates the main path from the lawn. She remembers raising one leg trying to kick at an imaginary foe, when quicker than she could think, she lost her footing on the damp surface. Her soft arm tried bracing for impact, but the force was too much for her small body to handle. She can't forget the sound of bones crunching under her weight, nor the fear in Celine's eyes when she heard the yell that came from Rumi.
Celine moved faster than she's ever seen her, scooping her up into her larger arms before rushing her to the emergency room. Rumi also recalls the anxiety exuding from her guardian, the way her voice wavered in front of the doctors. The hospital felt much more sizable back then; everything seemed too white, a thick scent of sterility that burnt her nose. The doctors intimidated her, their white coats too bright for her to look at.
But Celine was there, always nearby, even when she couldn't be with her during the x-ray, she stayed by the small window, letting Rumi see her face. Steady hands helped her change into a hospital gown, they soothed her every fear. She allowed Rumi to sit on her lap during the examination, held her gently, smoothed her hair during the setting of bones. Celine was her pillar in that terrifying situation.
The second time she can remember being in this too sterile of a space was when she was thirteen. Celine had left her to go out on a hunt. The moon hung overhead, the cold of the night settled into her. She stayed up, long past her usual bedtime, waiting for her guardian's return. Celine had gifted her a phone when she turned twelve, but she only ever used it to reach the older woman. Rumi was debating if she should call, but didn't want to distract her in case she was fighting. Several minutes of her internal debate passed before Celine's contact flashed on her screen.
Any bit of hope quickly faded when a stranger's voice answered.
“Hello? Is this Ms Celine's ward?”
Rumi stumbled out a reply before the voice continued, “Your guardian was caught in an accident.” The voice strained, seemingly unconvinced. Rumi instantly knew what was not being said, even if the stranger didn't understand.
“Ms Celine asked for you. I believe she's arranged transport already.”
Then, the line cut off before she could even respond; Rumi was left shaken and confused.
A few more agonising minutes passed, when a car Rumi recognised as Celine's personal manager drove into their home. Rumi has little recollection stretching between the time of the phone call and reaching the hospital, all she remembers is seeing Celine's face as she laid on the cold uncomfortable bed, paler than it should be. Bandages wrapped around both arms, an oxygen mask crossed her face. The strained breaths, the iv fluid that dripped steadily, and the beeping of the vital signs monitor all showed of her struggling body.
Rumi remembers grabbing at Celine's palm, avoiding the gauze wrappings. She was crying harder than she ever did, willing for the woman to wake up. She remembers, finally, when the palm twitched from underneath her own, its movements were shaky, but it shifted to rest on the back of her head, cradling her, still as gently as it always did.
Celine strained to stay awake long enough to reassure Rumi, but she fought through the morphine, trying her best to comfort her. The moments after come as a blur, she can't recall the hushed conversations that Celine had with the doctors, or her manager. She knows that Celine made up some excuse for the injuries, even if the doctors didn't buy it.
Currently, Celine lies alone in her room, the nurse had told her that she's only just woken up, and that the test results would take some time. Celine was given a VIP room on account of her fame, which also had access to a private waiting room for the girls to stay. They weren't yet allowed to see her though, much to Rumi's displeasure.
Bobby found them soon enough, bringing food and water for the girls. Rumi appreciated the man, he was always so considerate, but she didn't think she could stomach anything.
“Are you sure you don't want me to stay?” Bobby looked apprehensive, perpetually concerned for them.
“We'll be alright, but thanks anyway.” Rumi responds. Zoey and Mira reassure him as well. "I don't think Celine would want to be crowded right now." Mira states.
“Ok, well, I'll see you girls later, let me know if anything changes.”
“Bye Bobby,” is all she can say, giving him a small smile, but her own worry is eating her alive.
Rumi gets up from her seat, sits back down, before standing again. She paces back and forth against the carpeted surface, anxiety refusing to let her sit still. Zoey matches her energy, legs shaking up and down, gripping tightly to her chair's arms. Mira is the only one visibly not shaken, but even then, Rumi knows it's just a front, Mira never lets any of her own worries show, not when she's under so much stress.
“Celine's gonna be alright? Right? It's not like she has heart disease, or had a stroke or something? We would know if it was that serious wouldn't we? The doctors would tell us right–”
“Zoey, stop. You're spiralling.” Mira interjects, playing a hand on the bouncing knee. “Celine is too stubborn to let herself stay sick for long.” Rumi notices how Mira looks at her as she said those words, in truth, Rumi had also thought those same things as Zoey, mind racking for any bit of clarity. How would she be able to live if something so severe happened to Celine?
Waiting for any more news felt like an eternity, time crawling at a snail's pace. The ticks of the grandfather clock seemed more like a punishment the longer she was there.
Eventually, a man in an oversized white coat appears from Celine's room, flanked by a nurse.
“Hello, I'm Dr Kwon, I'm in charge of Ms Celine's care.”
Rumi quickly bows in greeting, followed by the two girls.
“As you know, Ms Celine came in due to collapsing and unresponsiveness earlier this afternoon.” Rumi nods, urging him to continue.
“We've done extensive testing to rule out any serious conditions, and thankfully, the results show nothing of the sort. Her blood test does show lower levels of hemoglobin, which point to anemia, but I believe that there is more to this fainting spell than just that.” He pauses, only for a second before continuing.
“Her blood sugar was dangerously low when she came in, and she was notably dehydrated. While the current weather may be blamed for the latter, from our observations, it seems as though this was caused by self neglect, leading to her body weakening.”
Celine wasn't taking care of herself? Why would she do that? Rumi wonders, until she is struck with another memory; of when she was younger and Celine was under constant stress, from daily battles, to running a company, and then taking care of Rumi's needs, her guardian never seemed to rest. She recalls when she first noticed the woman not eating alongside her, too busy typing at her laptop, having tense conversations over the phone. Celine looked so tired back then, eyes rimmed with dark circles.
Was she overworked? Were there problems in the company? Or did her grief take over yet again, a ball and chain that Celine was never fully free of.
She is pulled out of her thoughts as the doctor continues, “We were able to stabilise her condition, but if she really is neglecting herself, then we'll need to send our psychologist to assess her.”
“Are we able to see her?” Mira asks, growing restless at each passing second.
“You may enter, yes.”
“Thank you, doctor,” Rumi and Zoey say, while Mira pushes open the door that separates the girls from their mentor.
Celine is sitting up, resting against some pillows, a blanket thrown across her lap. The bed looks much more plush than the one Rumi remembers seeing all those years ago. It's positioned near the window. The soft yellow glow of the evening sun blankets her features, contrasting the bright fluorescents, all of the woman's rough edges seem to mellow out. She's looking out towards the glass, not yet facing them.
Mira and Zoey wait for her to speak first, “Celine,” the tightness in her throat comes back, she's having a hard time trying to figure out what to say. Rumi instead takes in all of Celine, there's an iv line attached to the vein at the crook of her left elbow, still administering whatever fluids prescribed to her. Weary eyes point downwards, her mouth is pressed into a thin line. Her face seems a little more hollowed out from the last time she saw her. The small streaks of grey hair has never made her look as old as it does now.
Celine finally turns to face her, she too studies Rumi's face, before opening her arms for the girl to rest in. Rumi feels the fresh set of tears welling in her eyes, and presses her face into the older woman's shoulder. She feels when Mira and Zoey join in at her sides, Celine's arms carefully snaking around the three.
“I worried you girls, didn't I.” It was less of a question, more of a sad statement.
Mira leans out of the embrace, “of course you did, how could you have not?!” The fire behind her words died out as quickly as they came, the undertone of anxiety made evident by the way her voice cracked.
“I'm sorry.” Rumi feels Celine rest her chin atop her head. "I didn't think I'd get to this point again," she whispers out, a confession, one that conveys to be from deep within herself.
“The doctor thinks you're neglecting yourself... is that true?” Zoey says from beside her.
“I...it wasn't intentional.” She pauses, “It just happened I suppose.”
“How does skipping meals ‘just happen,’ Celine, they said your blood sugar was dangerously low!” Mira continues. “You taught us that food is necessary, in an industry that berated women for eating, you encouraged it. I don't understand how you let this happen.”
“I don't know, girls... I don't.” She took in a shallow breath. “I promise I didn't mean for this to happen,” a weak laugh escaped her lips, “I guess old habits die hard… Sometimes, I get too lost inside my head, the weight on my shoulders become too much for me to bear… For a long time I've had so much on my plate, it became easier to ignore my needs to take care of everything else… At some point, I didn't see any worth in doing those small things.”
Another sigh escapes Celine, “I'm sorry for worrying you girls, I'll try to take better care of myself.”
“You're important to us Celine… please, just let us in.” Mira replies.
Tears flow from Rumi's eyes, she knows Zoey is crying too, hearing the sniffling from the younger's body. The thought of Celine not seeing her own value, to the point of ignoring her own needs, killed something inside of Rumi.
She looks up, peeling her head from Celine's chin, watching her guardian closely. There's a sense of sincerity in those heavy lidded eyes.
Zoey moves out from under Celine's arm, sitting on the edge of the bed. “Yeah, we still need you, you're our teacher, and we still have so much to learn.”
A chuckle escapes from Celine, “I don't know about that, you girls seem to teach me more often than not these days.”
“Only because you laid the foundation.” Rumi speaks.
She sees the quirk tugging at the corner of Celine's lips, her guardian finally less tense than before.
“Mira, Zoey, would it be alright if I speak to Rumi alone?”
A scoff comes from Mira, “You don't have to ask that,” she says, taking Zoey by the hand, leading them out the room. “Take as long as you need, we'll be outside.”
Rumi glances back at the two, returning Zoey's wave. Now that she's alone with her guardian, the room seemed so much larger, with greenery coming from potted plants, a tv on the wall opposite to the bed, and there's even a couch on the far end. A stark contrast to the last hospital room Celine stayed in. The room itself is cold, fighting off any signs of the heatwave going on outside.
Celine extends her arms again, an offering for Rumi, one she easily takes. She lets herself curl into Celine's side, as if she were a kid again, burying her face once more into the curve of her neck, and breathing in the familiar scents of Celine; the jasmine body wash, the fragrance of hair oil, the lingering smell of detergent, each washing out the drying air of alcohol and sterility associated with the room. Celine shifts around Rumi, moving the blanket to cover both of them, and dragging her legs into her lap. A secure arm wraps around her waist, hand making soothing motions up and down against her side. Even though Celine is the one stuck in the hospital, she still comforts Rumi.
“I'm sorry, Rumi,” Celine says again, “You shouldn't have to see me like this.”
Rumi considers what she should say, whether she should reassure Celine, or simply convey the anxiety she caused. Instead she replies, “Zoey was right you know, we do need you... I need you.” Whatever energy she had left was rapidly depleted, the words she speaks aren't much louder than the gentle rustle of leaves in the wind.
‘You're all I have left... my only parent,” her eyes close, hesitating before continuing, “you may not be my mom, Celine, but in every way you are my mother.”
She knows Celine is uncomfortable being called ‘mom’; she tried, once, when she was too young to understand the weight that word carries. Celine breathed in an unsteady breath, back then, sounding the most unsure Rumi has ever known her to be. She told Rumi that she wasn't Miyeong, that she can't ever replace her. The emotions swarming Celine's eyes were enough to let Rumi know to never try that again.
But the thought never left Rumi's mind. She knows all about Miyeong, through every one of Celine's stories, through watching old interviews and home videos, and yet, that woman felt so far beyond Rumi.
She loves her mom, of course she does, all that she was, and all that she could've been, but she's still no more than just those stories. Celine, however, was there, is there for her, raised her, and watched her grow. Celine performed all the motherly roles, and Rumi knows the love was there, in some convoluted way, but it was there.
Celine doesn't reply for a while, rather, she slumps her cheek against Rumi's head, letting some breaths pass between them.
“I don't deserve to have a kid as brilliant and bright as you. But you entered my life anyway; from that moment, you became mine.”
Acceptance, something Rumi craved all her life.
“I love you, Rumi, I know I don't say it nearly as much as I should, but I really do.” Celine speaks in a low voice, an intimate moment shared only between the two. “All of you.”
Overwhelming emotions surge through her, there's no reason to hold back her tears, so she lets them flow, not caring if she leaves a damp spot on the thin hospital garment. Celine responds by holding her tighter, with as much strength as she can manage.
In moments like this, Rumi thinks that maybe Celine needs her just as much as she needs Celine. They are each other's anchors. Life was not kind to them, and they could've chosen a completely different route, become bitter in the face of it all, but somehow, they are here, as dreamers and fighters. Survivors.
“I promise, I'll do better, for you Rumi.”
That's all she could ever ask for. Celine has always put effort and care into raising her, even if her methods weren't always the best. Now, though, they're both learning to love without hurting, to love without suffocating. Rumi could never be who she is today without Celine.
“I love you too.” Those words have never felt as freeing as they do now.
Healing may take a long time, both having their own internal problems to deal with. Rumi is fully aware of that, but the fact that they are here right now, safe in each other's arms, is enough.