Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

It was supposed to be a normal mission.

Just a normal mission. Find the tear, kill the demons, patch the Honmoon, go home, and snuggle in bed. A normal mission. A normal. Mission.

This wasn't supposed to happen. This wasn't supposed to happen…

Mira was an early riser. Always the first in the penthouse awake. Always up and about with a mug of coffee and a delicious breakfast cooking on the stove, prepared just in time for her sleepy girlfriends to come trekking into the kitchen.

Today was no different. She had just finished preparing everything when a steady patter of footsteps echoed throughout the spacious room. Rumi came from around the hall, yawning and stretching.

She had ditched the nighttime hoodie, now opting for t-shirts and, last night, a tank top. Her patterns glistened in the morning light, her prominent K-9s on full display, gleaming. Mira bit her lip and focused on filling her girlfriend’s plate for her. Rumi made her way over to the table, sniffing the air.

“Mmmm, kimchi bokkeumbap.” she practically salivated. Mira passed her a plate and a mug of coffee—just how she liked it, black with a spoonful of sugar—to which the halfling eagerly sipped from. “Mmmm, coffee.”

“Tch. No good morning? Just here for the food?” Mira teased, grabbing her own plate and mug, after setting aside enough portions for Zoey, and sitting down next to her. She lifted her voice to an obnoxious high pitch, playfully poking Rumi's toned arm as she did so. “Thanks Mira for the wonderful breakfast!”

It was all performative, of course. She never expected a thanks. Not because Rumi and Zoey were ungrateful—it was actually quite the contrary, really—but because cooking was a safe space. It let her create something of her own and immediately enjoy tasting how much her hard work paid off.

Providing for her girls was already enough, but the looks of absolute content on their faces as her food made them positively melt was greater than any thanks.

Rumi kept her gaze straight forward, taking a long swig of her coffee. She gently set it down after draining nearly half of it, before turning to look at Mira with a rather unimpressed look, which Mira had been expecting, making her smirk. What she didn't expect, however, was for Rumi to grab her by the front of the shirt and kiss her.

“Mh!”

She tasted nothing but bitter coffee with the faintest of a sweet aftertaste. Her hands instinctively found Rumi's face, thumbs lightly tracing iridescent patterns she had entirely memorized. She felt Rumi smile into the kiss, gently pressing her chest now.

Rumi pulled back just a bit too soon, a cocky smirk on her lips. “Is that a good enough thanks?”

Mira nearly giggled like a lovesick child, cheeks dusted with pink. She opened her mouth to retort when a loud gasp resounded from behind them.

“You guys are kissing over breakfast? Without me?!” Zoey held her chest in mock offense.

Mira rolled her eyes, though her lips curled in a smirk. “Ya snooze, ya lose.”

“It’s not my fault y’all wake up so early.”

“It’s 9:00, Zo.” Rumi said from behind her mug.

“Whatever.” Zoey didn't hide her pout as she trudged towards the counter with her waiting meal and her own mug of coffee—also made just how she liked it, a latte with more vanilla creamer than coffee—before sitting down at Mira's other side. “My turn.”

She planted a long, wet kiss to Mira's cheek, which only darkened further in color, before pulling back and guiding Mira's face to meet her lips, capturing her in another quick kiss. Mira was sure Zoey could feel her smile.

“...She's not even wearing her Kiss the Cook apron.” Rumi huffed, mumbling from behind her mug. Mira and Zoey separated, the former smug and the latter looking rather mischievous.

“You’re one to talk, Missy! Is somebody jealous?” The maknae teased.

Rumi flushed, shoving some egg into her mouth. Zoey giggled in response. She stood up from her seat and practically glided over to kiss Rumi's now inflated cheek. Rumi swallowed and coughed, nearly choking on her food. “Zoey!”

Zoey barely let her breathe before she captured her lips. Mira watched as Rumi's patterns briefly flashed gold as her face only reddened. Zoey pulled back with a resounding smack of their lips, and Rumi only stared, dazed. “Mmm. Feel better?”

“Uhh, uh huh.”

Zoey laughed, and Mira joined her. A flustered Rumi was always a treat. Zoey sat back down to eat, going for the eggs first, now that she already had a taste. Mira sipped her black coffee, content.

They ate in peaceful silence, the occasional clink of silverware or a moan of pleasure from Rumi or Zoey enjoying the food being the only disturbances. Mira finished first, standing up and placing her plate and silverware in the sink, before moving around to clean up the mess she made while cooking. Zoey was done not long after, turning the faucet and grabbing dish soap and a sponge and began rinsing the plates. Rumi wasn’t far behind, and eventually placed her dishes next to the sink as Zoey washed, before grabbing a bottle of cleaning spray and paper towels from under the sink, prepared to clean the table. It was a simple routine they’d fallen into over the years. Mira cooked and cleaned up her mess, Zoey did the dishes, and Rumi wiped the table and counters.

Zoey cracked her knuckles as she placed the last dish in the dishwasher for later. She looked around. Mira was cracking her neck and Rumi was discarding the last paper towel. “Anybody up for the bathhouse?”

“Yeeeeeees!” Rumi practically moaned, making the other two chuckle. It was almost comical how Rumi seemed to be the biggest enjoyer after so many years of covering up and refusing to even entertain the idea. Mira's heart warmed at the thought that Rumi could finally be free and enjoy the little things now that her patterns were out.

“Mir?” Zoey turned to her, big brown eyes wide and glistening with anticipation.

Mira smiled down at her in response. “Thought you’d never ask.”

“Yes!”

“Woo!”

Mira chuckled to herself as her girlfriends nearly tripped over themselves to go get ready. Their enthusiasm was rather infectious, as she felt a pep in her step as she made her way back to her own room to grab what she needed.

Today was gonna be a good day.

Mira loved the bathhouse. They all did, but Mira found it special for more than one reason. It was a beautiful place.

She’d had her first kiss with Zoey here, for one. That was a wondrous day she’d never forget. Months, years even, of pining, of denial, of fear, all culminating in one of the most magical moments of her life. The first time they took Rumi, they had a big cry about everything. It was the first time Mira really allowed herself to feel after burying the shame, the guilt, the sorrow over betrayal after betrayal. They were past it now, or rather, she felt she was past it.

The bathhouse just brought out the best in her. It was one of three places where she could let herself truly relax. The other two were the couch and in the arms of her girlfriends, don’t even ask. Letting the hot water encase her tired muscles was a feeling so great she felt like she could happily drown in it.

One would think that someone like Mira, who had once nearly suffocated in the depths of a freezing cold river, and even caught pneumonia to boot, would be opposed to such a sensation—Zoey definitely thought as much at first—but no. The heat was intoxicating, freeing. She didn’t care that she was neck deep in water when it felt so good.

It certainly felt good when she had the two greatest people in her lives on either side.

To her right, Rumi melted into the water, patterns shimmering. She looked like a glass piece, catching light and reflecting a rainbow like a glowing beacon. A beautiful, beautiful beacon.

To her left, Zoey happily sank in, the freckles on her shoulders exposed and on full display. Mira lost count of all the times she had traced them with her eyes and fingers, tallying every single one, picking out any constellation she could find.

Her girls.

“I'm so happy that these like, exist.” Zoey broke the peaceful silence, wavy wisps of hair framing her face. “I never went to one in America. Discovering them here was like, life changing.”

“So you've told us.” Mira mumbled. “But I agree. This is the greatest place on earth.”

“Woah, now that's a statement.” Rumi chirped, amusement in her gaze. “Even better than Couch?”

“Depends on the day.” Mira hummed without missing a beat.

“Very fair. Very fair.” Zoey nodded sagely, before bursting into giggles. Mira smiled and Rumi chuckled in turn.

It was days like these, days where they could just be; no demons, no photoshoots or recording sessions or fan signings, no press on their asses, just them, that made everything worth it. These were her favorite days. And with their hiatus, they became most of their days.

“What are we thinkin’ for lunch later?” Rumi mumbled, only half engaged in the conversation she was initiating.

Mira hummed. “I heard a new boba place opened up. I think it's a few blocks from here.”

“Mmmm.” Zoey's face scrunched up in thought. Her lips pursed in a way that made Mira want to wade over and kiss them. “I mean yeah I want boba but I also kinda wanna try that sushi place again.”

“Fuck no.” Came Rumi's immediate response. Mira snickered at the sheer seriousness in her gaze, as if Zoey's suggestion manifested in the form of the biggest demon she'd ever seen. “You cannot be serious.”

“Oh c'mon, it wasn't that bad-”

“Zo, we all got food poisoning and had to cancel for three days, what are you talking about?” Mira was so bewildered she had to laugh, a breathy chuckle escaping her lips. “You had it the worst, too!”

“I'm all about second chances!” Zoey held her hands up in a placating gesture, lightly splashing the water as she did so. “That was before our world tour. Times have changed.”

Mira and Rumi shared a look. The fact that their maknae sounded so sure of herself was not reassuring them in the slightest. Zoey, bless her heart, was not the greatest at choosing the best places, be it a sketchy doctor or a sushi place that looked like it had never seen a health inspection in its lifetime.

“If you really want sushi so bad we could get those little packs at the convenience store and bring them home.” Mira offered.

Zoey hummed and tapped her chin with her finger. “Actually, yeah!” Her eyes practically sparkled with joy and Mira felt her heart clench from the sheer cuteness. “And you could get your boba too, win-win!”

“Nice.” Mira nodded, before turning to the eldest. “You good with that, Ru?”

“Look, as long as it's not that place again, I'm happy.”

“Then it's settled.” Zoey grinned, satisfied.

The walk to their favorite convenience store wasn't far, necessarily, just crowded. The bathhouse was tucked in one of the more packed places in the city, a fair bit away from their penthouse, but it was still walking distance.

Just in between laid the aforementioned convenience store and a neat little park that had been carved out and maintained. It was a sweet place. Mira had seen multiple proposal posts on Instagram at this park. There was a cute little spot in the center where the trees almost made a heart, and at sunset it was one of the most breathtaking scenes imaginable.

It was only midday right now, but it was still a pretty sight. Mira slowed her pace just slightly. They were only a few blocks from the store, and yet…

“You guys wanna cut through the park?” When her girlfriends only stared from both sides in response, she backtracked, looking away and pretending that her neck was heating up from the humidity. “I mean, I know it's slower, but-”

Rumi took her hand, interlocking their fingers, and squeezed. Mira turned back to look at her, cheeks now blazing as much as her neck. The halfling smiled, patterns bathed in the warmth of the sun, making her heart stutter. “Sounds like a great idea.”

Zoey yanked Mira’s baseball cap for herself before the tallest could respond. She linked arms with the dancer, leaning so her cheek rested against her shoulder. The softness of her freckled skin made Mira’s stomach do summersaults. “Lead the way, unnie.”

It wasn't anything special, really. Just a short trek through the stone path with the trees overhead providing some decent shade. They weren't the only people out, of course. Off to the side they could see a group of kids playing wiffle ball. Down the path a ways away was a man playing with his dog, throwing a tennis ball.

“Ooh!” Zoey pointed towards a family of four having a picnic. “We should do that! We haven't picnicked in a while.”

Rumi hummed. “That's true, we haven't. Ooh, we could pre-make sandwiches tonight and get extras of all our fav chips while we're at the store.”

Mira snorted. “Tonight? What if it rains tomorrow?”

“We can check the weather app.” Rumi retorted, sticking her chin in the air.

“Yeah, Mira, get with the times.” Zoey snarked. Mira stole her hat back in retaliation, making the lyricist giggle. “We'll plan for a day that for sure doesn't have any rain, which could so happen to be tomorrow.”

“Yeah, so be prepared to make some sandwiches, jagi.”

“Uh uh.” Mira scoffed, ignoring the way her chest burned at the term of endearment. “Your idea, you make the sandwiches.”

“Wha–it was Zoey's idea!” Rumi squawked. “Make her make the sandwiches!”

Zoey merely shrugged. “Only if you pay for lunch.”

“We share a bank account!”

Mira simply laughed between them as they continued to bicker. They passed by the heart shaped trees, the place where she had seen proposals, kisses, dates, and aesthetic photos, all in that spot. Right now, there was a girl sitting on a rock a few yards away from it, sketching the branches. A man and a woman passed under the leaves, holding hands. She subconsciously felt the warmth of her own linked hands.

Someday, maybe, she'd take them here and add their own photo to the collage of many.

Not today, but hopefully someday.

The clerk gave a small chuckle as the three of them piled their hoard onto the counter. “Big Huntr/x fans?”

Ok, so they decided to grab a few reserve cases of their own branded ramyeon while they were out, so what?

It's not like they were entirely recognizable. They had face masks for occasions like this, where they needed to go out and didn't want to risk being spotted by fans. Mira usually went for the bare minimum with just her glasses and hat, but she was wearing contacts today, so she tied up her iconic pink hair in a messy bun. Rumi was wearing a hoodie with her hood up, just as a means to hide her mane of purple hair. Zoey settled for just a pair of shades. With the combined effort of masks to hide half their faces, it worked well enough.

“Yeah.” Zoey breathed a laugh from behind her mask, keeping it cool. “Huge.”

The clerk scanned the packs—one case for each of them—with a raised brow, but didn't say anything else. He was clearly very used to this. He was an older man, and he moved like he could scan food in his sleep. He finished with the ramyeon, and moved to their gaggle of chip and cookie bags. As he eventually moved to the sushi and boba, the reason they even came here, Zoey looked at Rumi, bouncing her brows.

“Ugh, it literally doesn't matter.” Rumi scoffed, rolling her eyes but pulled out her card anyways.

“Hey, you made a deal.” Mira supplied, grabbing the plastic bags.

“I'm paying for the damn food.” Rumi snipped, exasperated. The visible patterns on her face flickered red for a split second, and Mira would bet money that her nostrils were flaring and her fangs were being bared behind that mask. The dancer made sure her smirk reflected in her eyes, so Rumi could see her satisfaction. Their leader was just so easy to bait.

“You got all those?” Zoey's hand ghosted around her forearm, prepared to take some of the bags off her hands. There were a lot, but they weren't that heavy. It was all just cardboard and plastic, and their food endeavors amounted to a total of five relatively light bags.

“Nah, I've got it. Could you carry my boba for me, though?” And Zoey was on it like she'd been tasked with saving the fate of the universe. She dutifully carried Mira’s drink, as well as her own, her gaze following Rumi as their leader finished paying and bowed politely, taking her own drink. They exited the store, the sun above casting them in a blanket of warmth, a stark contrast to the heavily air conditioned store. “Thank you, jagiya.” Mira whispered as they were away from any prying ears, voice like honey. Zoey practically skipped beside her, careful to keep their drinks steady.

Rumi raised a brow as she noted the skewed distribution of grocery bags. “I can get some.” She offered, free hand outstretched at the ready but still suspended, waiting for permission.

Mira swayed her arms, keeping the bags out of reach. “I’ve got it, Ru.”

Rumi shrugged, visibly bewildered. “Oooookay then.”

Zoey slinked up to Mira’s other side, a knowing glint in her eyes. “Take a hint, leader-nim. Mimi obviously wants to show off her big strong muscles.” Mira affectionately rolled her eyes. Zoey no doubt would’ve wrapped a hand around her bicep and squeezed if she wasn’t carrying two cold drinks. Rumi nearly scoffed in response, a crooked smile now visible as she took off her mask to sip her drink.

“Of course.” Mira snarked, playing along. “Gotta take every chance I get to stay absolutely ripped.” The joke was that she was obviously built like a toothpick. She worked out a shit ton; daily cardio, some heavy weights now and then—though a lot of the exercise came from both dancing and hunter training—and ate decently, but her metabolism was just too quick for her. She did maintain a little bit of muscle, she wasn’t just skin and bone after all, and they manifested in toned abs and skinny limbs that were deceptively strong.

“Exactly.” Zoey agreed, completely unserious, prompting all of them to laugh.

The walk back had been much quicker, now that they had food waiting. The elevator dinged to their penthouse, opening to reveal their record wall and, just past the corridor, the fabled couch. Rumi and Zoey skipped in, the former pulling her hoodie off.

“Couch! Couch! Couch!”

“Groceries!” Mira drawled.

“Groceries! Groceries! Groceries!”

They didn’t have a kitchen on this floor per se, but they had a nice little nook where they sometimes liked to eat. There were some cabinets to store extra snacks that they could bring to the couch during movie nights. That was where the extra ramyeon went.

With their reserves put away, they were free to indulge in cheap sushi on the couch.

“Is there a reason you wanted sushi specifically, Zo?” Rumi hummed as she fiddled with the plastic container of her pack. The seal seemed to be giving her a hard time.

“I was just in the mood y'know?” The maknae supplied as she got her own pack open and fiddled with her chopsticks. “The Sushi Mood.”

“Right…” Rumi absently replied, still struggling with the plastic seal. She grumbled, cheeks puffing.

“The Sushi Mood is valid,” Mira started, taking Rumi's sushi and attempting to open it for her. Her finger kept slipping as she tried to get her nail between the seal. “But we do have kimbap.”

“Kmmbahp ish dwffwent.” Zoey argued with a full mouth. She took the plastic from Mira's hands since the dancer wasn't making any progress. She swallowed, cracking the seal open. “You know it's different.”

Rumi took her now open container and mumbled a thanks. “Yeah I know they're different, but I can never really tell.”

“Yeah, well, that's a skill issue.” Zoey began fiddling with Mira’s sushi, biting her lip to hide a shit eating grin at their leader’s indignance.

“I think you just got roasted, Ru.” Mira smirked despite having no idea what the hell “skill issue” meant, though she could infer.

“I'm aware, Mira.” The eldest huffed before stuffing her face with sushi.

Zoey giggled, passing Mira's now open container back to her and clicking her chopsticks as she began to chow down. Rumi chewed slower, probably trying to savor the taste and figure out what made sushi noticeably different from kimbap.

“All I taste is more rice.” Rumi mumbled.

“Dip it in something, then. More flavor.” Mira hummed, pulling out her phone. Zoey peered at the screen over her shoulder, curious.

“The weather app?”

“I'm making sure it's not gonna rain.”

“Oh, yeah. Good idea.” Zoey scooted closer, resting her chin on Mira's shoulder.

“And it looks liiiiiike…” More scrolled through tomorrow's readings, seeing nothing but sun symbols across until after 6, when the sun began dipping. “Not a cloud in the sky.”

Rumi slid over now, too, dipping her sushi in soy sauce. “It's pretty warm for late October, no?”

“I guess?” Mira shrugged with her free shoulder. “Climate change or whatever.”

Zoey hummed, before looking past the phone to glance at the table. Mira's sushi lay untouched. Zoey had practically inhaled hers. She smirked to herself as a humorous idea came to fruition.

“I still can't believe you would wear turtlenecks and hoodies in the summer.” Mira blurted, facing Rumi. Rumi rubbed the back of her neck with a sheepish chuckle. “How did you never pass out?”

“Oh, trust me, it got close.” Rumi rubbed her right arm. “But…I knew I couldn't let you guys see them. I just…tried to power through until we turned the Honmoon gold.”

Mira placed a hand on Rumi's shoulder, thumb gently tracing the iridescent patterns. Rumi met her gaze, pierced by a softness that Mira only reserved for the two of them. “It's in the past now. You never have to worry about that again.”

Rumi smiled, real and crooked. She placed her own hand on top of Mira's, interlocking them. “Yeah.”

“If I catch you wearing a hoodie in the heat for no reason, I'm stripping you.”

Rumi choked on air, beet red. She shoved Mira away, slightly jostling Zoey in the process. “Mira!”

“She's right, the way.” Zoey chirped, amused. Mira opened her mouth to tease Rumi some more, and Zoey put her plan into action. She quickly and swiftly lifted a roll of sushi from Mira’s container, straight into the dancer's mouth.

“Thfuh?” Mira nearly choked, chewing and swallowing. “Zoey, what the hell?”

“I'm feeding you!”

“Why?”

“For fun, duh.”

“Can I get a warning next time?”

“Can I get a warning?” Rumi squawked, still red, patterns shimmering a pale pink.

“Warnings make it less fun.” Zoey stuffed another roll in Mira's mouth.

“Shtahp!” Mira snatched the chopsticks away, spitting some grains of rice on the table. She grumbled as she chewed, glaring at Zoey. She swallowed, taking her case of sushi for herself. “We're not on a date, I can feed myself, thank you.”

“Booo.” Zoey pouted. “You feed us all the time.”

“Yeah, cause I'm cooking.” Mira vaguely gestured with her chopsticks. “You know I don't like food getting shoved in my face.”

“Worth a shot.” Zoey shrugged. She stood up, stretching her legs. Her knee cracked as she knelt down to pick up her trash. “If you need me, I'll be making sandwiches downstairs, since someone doesn't want to.”

“Don't even start.” Rumi called without looking up from her last roll. “We made a deal–” But Zoey was already in the elevator. “Whatever.”

Mira hid an amused chuckle as she began to munch on the rest of her lunch. The taste was fine, she much preferred kimbap, but the different blend of flavors was a nice change of pace. She could really get behind the Sushi Mood.

“You guys are so mean to me.” Rumi huffed once she finished her food. Mira rolled her eyes.

“We do it ‘cause we love you.” She stuffed another roll in her mouth, not even denying it.

“Well you don't have to do it all the time.”

Mira smirked, finishing her meal. “You just make it too easy, yeobo.”

“Ohoho! You wanna go there? Well I-” Rumi's ringer went off, silencing any retort she was about to give. The demon groaned and fished it out of her pocket, eyes lighting up as she saw the caller. “Oh! It's Bobby.” She clicked the answer button.

“Hi Bobby!”

“Hey, girls!” Bobby appeared on the screen. He waved, a cheerful smile on his face. “Just wanted to check in, see how you've been the past couple months.”

“Oh, it's been great!” Rumi held the phone further so Mira could fit in the frame easier. “We’ve just been relaxing mostly, enjoying ourselves.”

“Enjoying the bathhouse, mostly.” Mira playfully nudged Rumi with her elbow. Rumi promptly pushed her out of frame, still keeping the phone steady. She held Mira by the face at arm's length, the taller of the two grumbling in protest.

“That's great! I'm glad you girls are making the most of your break.” Bobby's eyes flicked across the screen, a slight pinch in his brow. “Is Zoey there?”

“She's downstairs.” Mira popped back into frame, aggressively leaning on Rumi to fight for the center of the screen. “Makin’ sandwiches.”

“We're going on a picnic tomorrow.” Rumi explained further at Bobby's raised brow. “That little park by center sq–will you please get off?”

Mira, who was leaning about 70% of her bodyweight on Rumi at this point, simply shrugged. “I'm good here.”

Rumi didn't hold back this time and shoved her away, hard enough for her to fall back on the couch. Mira yelped as she rolled off and fell to the floor with an audible thud. Bobby’s eyes widened on the other side. “She's fine.”

“I'm wounded.” The dancer drawled from the carpet. She put an arm over her eyes and a hand on her chest, playing up the dramatics.

“Right, uh…anyways, that sounds fun!” Bobby chirped. “It's supposed to be a really beautiful day tomorrow.”

“Yeah.” Mira called from the floor.

“And there haven't been any…uh, demon hunts, do you call them?”

Telling Bobby had been a bit difficult, to say the least. The demons and the Honmoon were surprisingly easy to get behind, but it was the way his face increasingly dawned in horror about the insane stunts they had performed. The danger they routinely put themselves in. The fact that all three of them nearly perished the night of the idol awards. Bobby, being the protective manager he was, of course endlessly fretted over that concept.

Rumi had mostly been worried about his reaction to her patterns. To the knowledge that she was half demon, that she had the blood of an otherworldly being in her veins. But Bobby had embraced her “new tattoos” with open arms, quite literally.

“I don't care what you are, you're my kid.” He had said.

Rumi didn't stop crying for hours after that.

“Nope! Not yet, anyways. The Honmoon is strong, even if it's new. There's always a chance, but…” Rumi waved off the possibility to show it wasn't that big of a deal. “No need to worry, Bobby. We've been doing this for–”

“Years and years, I know.” Bobby chuckled, though Rumi could see the concern in his eyes. Mira more or less heard it from her place on the floor. “I'm never not gonna worry. You're my girls.”

“Aww,” Rumi and Mira cooed, the latter sitting up from the floor and sliding back into frame.

“We'll be fine, Bobby. We're professionals.”

Bobby sighed, resigned, and held his hand up. “Alright, I trust you girls. Well, have fun at your picnic tomorrow!”

“Bobby, wait.” Rumi blurted. Mira raised a brow.

Bobby's eyes raised back up from the end call button. “Yeah?”

“Do you maybe…wanna join us…tomorrow?”

“Wha? Me? Oh no, I couldn't possibly…” He ran a hand through his hair. “Uhh, what time were you girls planning on going?”

Rumi and Mira shared a knowing look. “We don't know yet. Probably around 2ish?” Mira estimated. “Still warm out, but less people.”

Rumi nodded. “Yeah that sounds good.”

“Great! I'll meet you girls there, then! Tell Zoey I said hi, and make sure to pack lots of water, it's gonna be hot.”

“Sir, yes, sir.” Mira snarked, giving a mock salute.

“Bye girls!”

“Bye Bobby!”

Once the call had ended, Mira had narrowed her eyes at the singer. “You could've asked first, y'know.”

“What, were you gonna say “no” to a picnic with Bobby?” Rumi challenged, a cocky smirk on her face.

“It's the principle, Rumi.”

“That's what I thought.”

“You're lucky I love you.”

Rumi happily hummed, picking up the rest of the trash now that they were both done with their food. She stood. “I'm gonna go update Zoey.” She leaned down slightly to press a tender kiss to Mira's temple. “And I love you too, yeobo.”

Mira tried, with very little effort, to hide the blush that was creeping up her neck and ears. She cleared her throat and took a sip of her drink, pretending not to be flustered. Rumi, of course, saw right through it and giggled.

Mira smiled to herself when Rumi was out of sight. She sighed, a bit of pink still dusting her cheeks no doubt.

She really was lucky.

They decided to have a movie night in Rumi's room.

The sun had already dipped past the horizon, the faintest of leftover embers littering the sky as the moon emerged to cast the world in darkness. Stars shimmered and painted the cloudless sky in a glittering canvas.

Mira, now dressed in her polar bear pj's, had brought her fully charged laptop, and Zoey, wearing her purple pajamas with turtle and colored square patterns, had filled the biggest bowl they owned with buttery popcorn. Rumi sat in the middle, clad in a tank top and sweatpants.

Derpy lay next to the foot of the bed, sleeping. The blue tiger and his little magpie companion were still a little strange to Mira, even after nearly two months of adjusting to their presence. Call her crazy, but anything that once belonged to Jinu was enough to raise her red flags.

Especially because that bird liked to pester her when she was cooking. She was thankful that he apparently had other things to do this morning, else he probably would've gotten on her nerves.

Said bird rested on Derpy's head, loafed and dozing off. Only one of his glowing yellow eyes remained open, fighting sleep. Mira pretended her heart didn't flutter at the sight.

“So!” Zoey snapped her from her thoughts. “There's this new movie that just came out and I really wanna watch. It's about these three girls that have superpowers, and they–”

She didn't have the chance to finish when they all felt it. The Honmoon.

A pulse rippled across the rainbow seams, a wave of red echoing through the threads and spreading far as the eye could see. The Honmoon whimpered, making all of them shiver.

Rumi was the first to act, closing the laptop and removing it from her lap. She set it down towards the foot of the bed, springing up out of her spot from between her girlfriends.

Zoey gently set down the bowl of popcorn on the nightstand before vaulting off the bed towards her own room to grab more suitable clothes. Mira followed suit.

How is this happening? Was all Mira could think as she traded her favorite pj's for a sweater and leggings. How are they already breaching it?

All three of them stepped out of their rooms at the same time. Rumi had thrown a hoodie over her tank top, and Zoey had grabbed a hoodie and sweatpants. They all shared a look, far too many emotions running through them to decide what it even meant. Without a word, Rumi opened her door further, allowing access. The other two knew exactly what that meant.

They quickly ushered through, passing by the two animals that were now awake and swiveling their heads in confusion. Only Zoey had the peace of mind to wave goodbye to them.

They stood at Rumi's balcony, attempting to pinpoint the exact location of the tear. Zoey's eyes landed on a small red patch all the way across the city. She pointed, bringing the small sprinkle of red to the other's attention. “There!”

Rumi exhaled. “Okay, let's go!”

They vaulted from their mighty penthouse, skydiving towards the nearest rooftop in an easy formation. Rumi in the middle, Zoey to her right, Mira to her left. Three bright blue beacons shooting across the sky like comets.

Mira couldn't say she didn't miss this. Sure, breaks were nice, but she could only go ham on the punching bag for so long before the call of the fight began to itch at her. They could spar all they wanted, but demon fights were her only chance to go all out.

She didn't have to look over to tell that Zoey felt similarly. She looked anyway, and like she expected, a wide eager grin was plastered on the maknae’s face. Rumi, on the other hand, was purely concentrated on the horizon below her, brows creased and jaw clenched. Mira silently sighed. Of course their leader would be stressed about this, not that Mira could blame her.

“Hey.” She called over the rush of the wind. Both girls turned to look, so she focused on the crease between Rumi's brows. “Relax.”

Rumi widened her eyes. “I-”

“Yeah!” Zoey cheered before the leader could deny it. “Whatever it is, we got this!”

Rumi looked between the two of them, on one side was Zoey's bright features radiating with enthusiasm, and on the other was Mira's stoic gaze, dripping with reassurance and confidence. She sighed. “Right. We got this. Normal mission.”

“Hell yeah!”

“Woohoo!”

Rumi finally smirked as they approached the rooftop, the Honmoon positively glowing as its threads encompassed their forms like a blanket, cushioning their fall to prevent any serious harm. They rolled as they landed on the rooftop, momentum carrying and allowing them to spring across the buildings with practiced ease.

The tear carried them across the city to a decently large building. A warehouse, by the looks of it. They landed on the roof, halting as they felt the Honmoon tug downwards.

“It's low.” Mira quipped.

“Let's hop down, go in the front.” Rumi ordered. She scanned the rooftop. There were multiple large air systems, and an old metal ladder on the edge. “There. Ladder.”

They slid down, and quickly rounded the edge of the building, face to face with the warehouse door. They easily kicked it open and drew their weapons, being met with a large empty space. No anomalies in sight.

The Honmoon pulsed again, pulling them even further below. The basement.

A few yards away was another door, the entrance to what they could only assume was the warehouse office, judging by the large cube of concrete that was in the corner. The tug strengthened, guiding them.

Through the office doors was a massive load of cubicles, and a wall with a door with a plaque that read “Basement”.

Down the stairs, the basement itself was rather cramped, like multiple alleyways were strung together to create a mess of hallways and dirty walls. Mira cringed.

When was the last time this place was cleaned?

The small tear shimmered in the low orange light. The three of them readied their weapons, Mira grimacing when she noticed that her gok-do was a little too long to comfortably swing in the narrow halls. Whatever. She'd make do.

The Honmoon rippled again, and faceless emerged from the walls, screaming and snarling despite their lack of mouths.

“Go!”

Like a machine, they plowed through them. Zoey bounced from wall to wall, even running on them to get the high ground, sniping and piercing any demons in sight. Rumi leapt swiftly in an arc, flanking most of the horde and slicing them from behind. Mira stayed in the biggest area she could, cutting through the front of their onslaught with practiced swings small enough to not accidentally hit a wall.

When the first horde was finished, a second came, smaller. All it took was a minute or so of working in tandem, before they had vanished in magenta smoke as well.

The silence that followed was far too loud. They stood in a circle, back to back, prepared for any other ambushes.

And then, a clap.

It echoed through the concrete chamber, loud and haunting. Another followed it, and then another.

“Well done, hunters.”

A figure emerged from the shadows, short and lean. He wore a colorful gugunbok that brought out his piercing yellow eyes and purple patterned skin. He wore scale armor on top, and a helmet to match. He looked straight out of the Joseon Dynasty.

“Who the hell are you?” Mira growled.

“None of your concern.” The man answered. “You are much stronger than I anticipated, though I should have expected that from the fabled hunters that sealed the Mighty King.”

“Gwi-ma…” Rumi whispered to herself. “What's your angle? We won't let you bring him back.”

“That’s true, you won't.” He shrugged, pacing slightly. “Not yet, anyways. I'd say you'd have to wait and see, but…” He gave a toothy grin, showing his fangs. “You won't be around for that.” The Honmoon quivered, another demon emerging from the floor. Bigger, stronger. “Catch me if you can.”

Rumi had already zipped past the open tear, a hand pulled back, claws extended. A behemoth crawled from between the threads, as tall as the ceiling, blocking Mira and Zoey from following her. She leapt, barely grazing the smaller man’s chest when he began to vanish in a puff of red.

Rumi felt a new yet familiar pull as her body vanished from the current plane, shifting and dematerializing on the spot. She could barely even scream before she was pulled out of the basement.

“Rumi!”

Rumi gasped as she felt her molecules rematerialize. She shivered, legs shaking. Her eyes darted around, spotting empty cubicles and computers. The office. She had…teleported. With him. She didn't even know that was possible.

The demon before her stood, bewildered. He clearly hadn't expected that to happen, either. He stared down at his chest, where Rumi's claws had barely made a mark. He scoffed, swiping it as if that would erase the damage.

“You weren't supposed to actually catch me.” He huffed, annoyed.

“Well, that's too bad!” Rumi snarled as she charged him, sai-geom glowing fierce. He dodged her strike, jumping back. Her weapon cleaved a desk in two.

“Come now, hunter. You wouldn't hurt one of your own.” He sneered, bending over backwards as Rumi moved to decapitate him.

“Fuck off!” She bellowed, the Honmoon trembling slightly. “I'm nothing like you, and I'm tired of people telling me who I am.”

“Ah, yes. Jinu.” He dodged another swing. “He got close, but not close enough.” Another, harsher, less controlled. It impacted the wall. “He was weak, he let affection get the best of him.”

“Just shut up!”

He threw a computer that she easily dodged, before teleporting behind her. She was ready, though, and landed a swift kick that propelled him through multiple cubicles. She chased quickly, pinning him and slowly lowering her blade to his neck as he resisted.

“Who are you?” She growled.

“If you must know,” he grimaced. “You can call me Daesung. It'll be the last name you ever hear.” He kicked her in the stomach, hard enough for her to stumble back. “My plan is already in motion. Soon, the hunters will be no more, and my King will be free to feast.”

“Your King will stay where he belongs!” Rumi charged. He teleported before she could even swing. He reemerged a few yards away, strutting as if this were a normal conversation.

“I have no doubt that he will, if all of you stay in one piece.” He studied his nails, unbothered. “But if you're nothing but crispy remains, then,” he chuckled. The sound made Rumi's skin crawl. “That's another story.”

Rumi felt her innards crawl, her patterns prickling as they shifted to a stark violet, unchanging. Her K-9s grew even longer, fangs piercing her bottom lip. She felt the glow behind her eyes as they began to simmer a low yellow. She gave an animalistic growl.

“What have you done?”

“An old parlor trick that we liked to use against the Japanese back in the day,” he smirked. “Just modified slightly.”

“What? What are you–”

She felt it before she even heard it. A faint tremor in the ground, vibrating through her core. She gasped as she struggled to maintain balance.

He flashed another fang filled grin. “I guess that's my cue. Goodbye, hunter. It was fun keeping your attention.”

He vanished as she charged once more, gone for good this time. She growled and roared in frustration, before another vibration hit. She heard it this time, too. A distant rumble. This wasn't an earthquake. Earthquakes weren't common in Seoul.

What was happening?

Crispy remains.

Another tremor, stronger than before. She fell to her knees, a purple hand clawing into the carpeted floor.

Oh no.

She needed to get to her girls, fast.

Mira and Zoey had made quick work of the brute in front of them, with Zoey using the walls to bounce up and wrap him in a chokehold, exposing him for Mira to slice cleanly through. He disappeared in a smoky haze.

The two panted, dissipating their weapons upon seeing no more extrusions. Zoey hummed, sealing the small tear.

“Nice.” Mira huffed.

“Thanks.”

Mira scanned the spot where Rumi had disappeared. They hadn't been able to see what had happened, just Rumi's faint yelp as their vision had been obstructed. She had most likely chased the new guy down the halls.

“C'mon, we gotta find Rumi.”

They jogged through the narrow halls, dirty slabs of concrete encasing them in a cold and grimy maze. Occasionally they'd pass by a door that held nothing but useless discarded equipment. Each turn they took found them with even more options than before.

Right turn. Useless door. Left turn. Dead end. Go back. Useless door. Another right turn. Useless door. Straight away. Dead end with a useless door. Go back. Left turn.

“Rumi?” Zoey called as they ran deeper into the concrete maze. “Rumi, can you hear us?” They stopped at another dead end. “Ugh.” She turned around, as if Rumi was about to spontaneously phase in from the walls. “Rumi! Are you there?”

Mira growled in frustration, scanning the empty alley as if it were a puzzle to solve. “We're never gonna find her like this.” She crossed her arms, contemplative. “Maybe we should retrace our steps. I bet that jerk just has us on a wild goose chase.”

Zoey hummed. “Yeah, maybe you're right. It wouldn't hurt. I remember the way, so it shouldn't be that bad.”

Mira was idly thankful Zoey had such a good memory. Spirits know she would've only gotten more lost by herself. Something flickered in her vision, the far wall of the dead end gleaming under the orange overhead light. She narrowed her eyes, before dropping it. She was probably just tired. “Okay, let's go-”

She heard a shift.

At first she thought it was the sound of her shoe on the pavement, or a rogue pebble being kicked. She stopped, wheeling back towards the wall, before she heard it again seconds later. “Did you hear that?”

Zoey halted in place, ears keened for the faintest of noises. She glanced around at the molded walls like they held an answer. After a few seconds of silence, she raised a brow. “I don't hear-”

Mira heard it again.

A shift—no. It was more like a click of some sort. Like someone clipping their watch, or the press of a button on a TV remote. Faint, but it was definitely there. She stepped closer to the barren wall.

And that's when she saw it. The Honmoon.

It was…unusually thick and wavy. Like those oceans and rivers with layers of foam and bubbles coating the top. The closer she got, the harder it became to see the actual wall, the swirls of pink, blue, and gold coating it like plaster.

The clicking was still there. Faint. If it didn't keep happening every few seconds Mira would've assumed she kept imagining it. She hesitantly pressed a hand to the wall, the Honmoon rippling beneath her touch, sending a shiver down her spine.

Zoey, yards behind her still, felt it too. “...Mira?”

“Shh! I hear something.” She vaguely gestured behind her, hoping Zoey would get the message. The clicking was inconsistent. She stared up at the mysterious wall, listening intently.

Click.

Click.

She counted five seconds between them.

Click.

Then four.

She pressed her left ear to the wall, both hands braced against it. It was like listening to a shell for a brief moment, like the ocean was roaring in her ear, before the clicks became just a little bit louder.

Click. Click. Click.

Click—no, that wasn't a click, that was a tick. Was there a clock nearby? Why was the wall ticking?

Tick. Tick. Tick.

The wall was…ticking.

Tick. Tick. Tick. Tick.

Mira felt her chest seize. Panic pooled in her gut.

Tick.Tick.Tick.Tick.Tick.

She hardly had time to pull away, to even turn.

“Zoey, RUN!”

BOOM!!

Chapter Text

Zoey's ears were ringing.

That was the first thing she noticed as she came to. The second, was the blurry haze upon cracking her eyes open.

The room around her spun erratically. A deep black fog encompassed most of her vision, clouding around her and invading her senses.

The third thing was the itch in her throat.

She immediately coughed and gasped, pulling an arm in front of her face. Smoke. That's what the fog was. Dense, suffocating, air polluting smoke.

She sat up with a groan, feeling the sting of minor scrapes from where she landed. Her eye twitched and she winced as she felt the sharpest sting on her temple. She touched the area, a dash of red coating her fingertips.

The fourth and final thing was the smell.

Oh God, the smell.

It wasn't just smoke, it was fire. Something was burning. It was pungent, invading her nostrils. She sniffed once and coughed from both the smoke and the sheer rank.

What the hell happened?

The Honmoon was trembling, making her chest ache. Right. The Honmoon. The demons. The chase. Mira…

“Mira!”

She scrambled to her feet, face to face with a wall of cloudy black mist that was already seeping into her pores. She wheezed as she tried to walk deeper into the smog, attempting to wave some of it away. The light above was most likely destroyed. That, or the smoke was just too dense for any lumens to peek through. She put an arm to her face to hopefully block most of the fumes.

“Mira?” She called, voice muffled. She stumbled, foot catching on a broken piece of concrete. Rubble. She slowly paced, pinpointing anything she could see. Dark walls, pieces of wall remnants and shrapnel scattering the floor. The smell only got worse the closer she got. “Mir–ah!”

She tripped again, on something softer this time, and it was big enough to make her fall. She held her hands out to ease her landing, hissing as she felt her palms sting on impact. She quickly covered her nose again, the stench of copper, burnt meat and hair outright nauseating.

She heard a faint rumble. Dust and pebbles dripped from the ceiling. She paid no mind to it; she could focus on that when she found Mira.

The form she had stumbled over remained unmoving. It was soft and malleable. Dust and ash coated most of it, but Zoey could make out a sliver of hot pink.

“Mira!” She rapidly crawled forward, any safety precautions forgotten. Mira was on her stomach, the left side of her face resting on the floor. Her noticeable features looked almost relaxed, like she hadn't just taken the brunt of an explosion.

Oh, God.

“Mira. Mira, can you hear me?” Zoey shook her limp arm just slightly, hacking out pollution after a particularly big inhale. “It's okay–” she wheezed. “It's okay, you're gonna be okay.” She slid her arms around her unconscious girlfriend and slowly rotated her onto her back. “I've got you, Mimi, I've g–”

Mira's face was missing.

The entire left side was charcoal black, or maybe it was the lack of light. Zoey reached to hold her face, hesitant to even touch. The skin was practically smoldering, specks of crimson flaking all over. Zoey traced the marks that stained her girlfriend’s skin. They spread down Mira's neck to her shoulder and upper arm, where her sweater was torn and still hot with embers.

And that's when she realized. Mira's chest was still.

Mira wasn't breathing.

Mira wasn't breathing.

“No no nononono, it's okay. I-it's okay, it's–” she hiccupped, coughing. Tears sprung to her eyes, and she couldn't even fight them. She began shaking the form in her arms. “Mira, wake up! Wake up!” She sobbed, holding her tighter. She placed her ear to Mira's heart, hoping for something, anything. “P-please. Please!”

Nothing.

Zoey's chest felt like ice as the hallways continued to echo with faint rumbles. Mira wasn't breathing. She couldn't feel a pulse.

She was dead.

Mira was dead.

Mira was fucking dead.

Air was escaping her quickly. The more she tried to breathe, the more she coughed. And the more she coughed, the more she gasped. The more she gasped, the more she could only helplessly sob, depleting even more air.

It was too dark. Too cramped. Her girlfriend was dead.

Her vision swam as her chest continued to heave. She couldn't hear herself anymore, whatever broken pleads were escaping her lips fell on complete deaf ears. The ring in her ears hadn’t ceased.

Hot tears fell onto Mira’s face as Zoey cradled her close, pressing their foreheads together, not at all caring about the gore. Her Mira couldn’t be gone. She just couldn’t. They had a whole life ahead of them, a life they shared with Rumi. They were supposed to go home and have a movie night. They were meant to turn the Honmoon gold, revel in success, get married, have a family of their own, grow old and grey together. They were in this together.

Her promise ring suddenly felt so heavy.

“Please…” she wheezed. “Please don’t leave me. I love you. I love you so fucking much, Mira, do you hear me?” Silence. Zoey’s form spasmed with hacking coughs and pained sobs. She buried her face in Mira’s still chest. “I love you…please…”

…

The Honmoon cried.

Zoey felt its presence encircling them. The chill of the spiritual waves washed over her and began to wrap around them. Her tears slowed, but didn't stop.

Suddenly, Mira's chest began to glow. Bright and blue. Her soul bounced to life, trembling with effort.

And then, it all faded. The chill, the glow, everything. It was like it never came.

“...Mira…?”

The body in her arms convulsed.

Zoey felt the movement instantly. Her head jerked up, tears still cascading in waterfalls down her ash stained cheeks. Mira trembled in her arms, chest heaving with small, choked coughs, tiny and cracked. Her breaths came in wheezes, pained and struggled gasps permeating the air.

“Mira!”

The dancer made a strangled noise, caught between a cough and a whimper. Zoey’s chest clenched, catching another whiff of charred flesh.

Right. Smoke. Explosion.

An explosion in Mira’s face.

Zoey shuddered. She had to get Mira out of here while she still could. Her arms burned as she attempted to lift the wounded dancer. Her limbs trembled with the effort as she continued to heave jagged breaths. The blood on her forehead was trickling down to her eye, making her squint.

She nearly stumbled again. Tears kept pooling despite her best efforts. She grabbed Mira around her torso, shakingly dragging her out of the plumes and into a more breathable area. The dancer's legs limply trailed behind as Zoey pulled her backwards.

And that's when the entire floor began to shake.

She heard it, a loud rumble, accompanied by dust falling from the ceiling once more.

Another. Louder, definitely closer. She felt the vibration in her core. Her heart pounded in her ears.

Oh no.

She attempted to scoop Mira up, fingers fumbling as they endlessly trembled. Mira nearly slipped from her grasp entirely. She let out a noise, shrill and frustrated, caught between a sob and a whine.

She needed to calm down.

Rumi was somewhere in this maze. She had to find her, fast.

Lifting Mira now felt like all those times when the dancer didn’t want to move and instead pretended to be a limp ragdoll for the sake of being difficult. Zoey, or more often, Rumi, had to heave her like a sack of potatoes. It was all fun and games. A little gag of pretending to be dead weight, ending in shared laughter.

Zoey wasn’t laughing now.

Her legs burned as she ran back the way they came, before the explosions started, before Mira had been dead on the floor. A right turn, a straightaway…and then what?

She couldn’t remember.

Which way?

Which way?

She didn’t know.

Another boom went off, loud and resounding in her chest. This time, the sound came from behind. She shrieked, holding Mira tighter as she picked a random hall and prayed. She didn’t have the time to slow down.

The concrete alleys blended together as she endlessly raced through them. Empty door after empty door flew by her like cars on a highway. Another turn. Another door. Another dead end. She scurried away before that one could blow up, too.

Her chest seared with effort. Her lungs felt like they were shriveling up. She coughed as if she just smoked an entire pack of cigars. She wheezed deep in her throat and her chest vibrated as the only sound that came out was an agonized croak.

The halls only seemed to get even more narrow the longer she was caught between them. They only seemed to get darker as more smoke bled from the walls.

Another boom, another detonated bomb. She didn't stop, couldn't stop. A slab of metal zipped across her vision, the sheer speed of its launch enough for her to feel the breeze as it flew by.

An inch closer, she would've been a goner.

She kept running. She had to keep running. She couldn’t afford to stop and process. She had to save Mira. She had to find Rumi.

The possibility of Rumi falling to the same fate as Mira gnawed at the back of her skull. She hiccupped, pressing forward still, Mira’s body shaking as her arms trembled from the effort. She couldn't think about that. Rumi was fine. Rumi and Mira were fine…

She heard an immense cracking. She looked up, watching as the ceiling began to crumble to pieces. Rubble littered the floor and began to topple down from above. She outpaced it all. She had to. The maze wasn't letting her out anytime soon.

A large boulder dislodged overhead. Her chest seized. She couldn't escape this one. She skidded to a halt, leaning back with a yelp as dust plumed from the impact. She fell backwards, curling and holding Mira tight.

…

She…wasn't dead?

Her eyes snapped open, heart beating hard against her ribs and ears ringing as loud impact after loud impact echoed in the background. Mira twitched in her embrace.

She wasn't dead. Neither was Mira.

She shakily exhaled, before gasping once more. Mira's weight on top of her would be hard to move. It pressed against her chest, constricting her lungs. She wheezed, tears once again springing.

She felt sweat pooling in her hoodie and down her face. Her temple stung as the gash throbbed. Tears cascaded down the side of her face as air escaped her. The walls towered above her, stretching high to the cracked ceiling. Dust collected in her nose. She sneezed, violent and loud, jostling Mira on top of her.

It was so…hot.

Too hot.

She was trapped. Trapped in a heated maze, only growing hotter by the second with each bomb. She felt rubble cascading around her. She pressed Mira close, charred flesh scraping against her skin, trickles of blood staining her clothes. She nearly gagged as she caught another strong whiff of burnt flesh.

She was going to die here. They were going to die. Rumi most likely already was.

“RUMI!” she screamed, raw and desperate. A last plea. She sobbed, clutching her dying girlfriend close, pleading for the other one. “RUMI!”

“ZOEY!”

Zoey jolted. She had to have imagined that. She sounded so far away. There was no way–

“Zoey, where are you?!”

“Ru–” she choked, throat scraped raw and burning. “H-Here!”

Another violent tremor. Zoey whimpered and curled. She was going to die. They were all going to die.

The Honmoon pulsed. Her chest and arms absolutely ached. She saw a faint flash of blue and pink in the corner of her eye.

“Zoey!” Rumi was now on top of her, blurred and panicked. She noticeably stilled at the sight below her. “Wha–”

Another boom, closer this time. Zoey yelped, and Rumi crawled on top of her, shielding their bodies from any debris. The entire chamber shook as more concrete rained from the crumbling ceiling.

When the worst passed, Rumi examined the heated labyrinth in horror. With a clawed hand she grabbed Zoey by the shoulder and held Mira's tattered sweater with the other. “Zoey, hold onto me. Don't let go.”

Zoey only croaked as she wrapped a trembling arm around Rumi and kept the other secure around Mira's torso.

They vanished from the material plane microseconds before another boulder impacted their very spot.

Zoey gasped as they resurfaced into the world, like she had just emerged from cold water.

Her back fell against the rough pavement of the sidewalk, two other forms colliding on top of her. She groaned and wheezed as the air was squeezed out of her.

The crisp night air burned in her aching lungs and stung her clogged nose. Her body trembled under the weight of her two lovers, and continued to do so even when she felt Rumi crawl off of her and lift Mira with her.

Her heart was tight against her ribcage. The dark sky above and the blinding streetlights were clouded with a grey smog, blurred into oblivion. Her ears had stopped functioning long ago.

They had made it. They were out. They could breathe.

Why couldn't she breathe?

She coughed for what felt like the thirtieth time in the past five minutes. Her throat was burned raw from the constant abuse, her chest painfully aching with effort. Something slid under her back and pulled her up. The world swam as her forehead rested on the soft fabric of Rumi’s hoodie.

“I’ve got you, Zo. Let it out, it’s okay.”

A part of Rumi relaxed when Zoey’s arms subconsciously slid around her and gripped her shirt. One girlfriend was being taken care of now, and the other…

Mira laid unconscious on the pavement, the only sign of life being the occasional convulse in her chest and pained twitch of her brow. The left side of her face was flush with the concrete. Rumi moved to scoop her up to assess the damage, ignoring the warmth leaking from her nose.

She couldn’t fight the gasp that escaped her.

She thought what she saw in the basement had been a trick of the light. She thought it was the shadows, or the smoke, or…something.

But now, holding Mira’s damaged form with shaking hands, she couldn’t deny what had happened. The skin was raw, burnt so deeply red that it looked charcoal black. Streaks of crimson littered the massive wound, spilling blood. Rumi gagged at the smell despite her clogged nose.

The stain extended to Mira’s entire ear, down her neck and peeking through the sleeve of her now singed sweater. Tiny choked whimpers were the only thing convincing her that she wasn’t currently holding a corpse.

Crispy remains.

Her breath hitched. Her fingers twitched as she brushed the charred skin with her hand, cupping Mira’s tainted cheek. It was warm to the touch, but not for the reason it usually was. There was no dust of pink or red to indicate a flush of embarrassment or blush from being flustered. There was only black and crimson leaking onto her palm. Something sharp prodded her skin.

Tears fell on their own accord. They dripped onto Mira’s face, maybe in a poor attempt to hydrate her smoldering skin. Zoey sobbed and wheezed into Rumi’s chest, and Rumi let her.

And that's when they became apparent. The people.

“Holy shit, is that Rumi Huntr/x?”

“No way…”

“Oh my God, it's Rumi!”

“I’d recognize that braid anywhere!”

“What are they doing here?”

“What happened? What's going on!?”

“That building just collapsed!”

Endless murmurs and shouts. An endless sea of strangers panicking and ogling the sight before them. Many took their phones out to record or take pictures of the scene before them: A damaged idol group at the front of a collapsed building.

She noticed some just stopping and staring at the wreckage. She spotted people walking away.

Anger burned in her chest. All these people, and none of them were daring to help. All the speculation and admiration and yet not a single soul wanted to actually be part of the mess in front of them. All they cared about was capturing it.

It made her blood boil.

“HEY!” She snarled at a useless bystander. “Stop recording and call 119!”

“Oh my God, it is them…”

“What's wrong with them?”

“Are they okay?”

“Please!” Rumi’s throat was raw. She guarded her weakened girlfriends from view as best as she could manage. Her patterns seared as she felt them flicker between endless amounts of different emotions. One half of her life curled inconsolably against her, the other nearly dead in her arms. “Somebody, anybody, help!”

The Honmoon was sobbing.

Her chest painfully pulsed. She knew Zoey felt it too. They’d never felt it react this bad, even when there had been endless tears and weak spots leading up to the Idol Awards, even when it was being torn apart. She could feel its pain, its sorrow, its grief.

Sirens wailed in the background. Help was coming.

Please hurry. I can’t fix this…

Zoey shifted from her place against Rumi’s torso. Her sobs had calmed, and her breathing had shifted from hysterical to…quite shallow. Rumi quickly and gently shifted Mira in her arms so the dancer's head was resting on her chest in an attempt to hold both of them.

The maknae was pale and shivering. Rumi shifted their position and held her by the shoulder to look at her face. Zoey’s eyes were glassy, her gaze unfocused as tears fell in waterfalls. Her freckled skin was slick with sweat. Blood trickled from a gash on her temple. The lyricist’s chest unnaturally heaved. “...Zoey? What’s wrong?”

Zoey was sick to her stomach. Her chest ached and burned, her stomach churned with each breath. She opened her mouth to speak, nausea skyrocketing.

She somehow managed to lean away from them before emptying her stomach onto the sidewalk.

“Zoey!”

“Oh my God, did she just throw up?”

“What happened?”

“Someone call for help!”

“Move, I can't see!”

Zoey heaved again, painfully vomiting onto the pavement. Rumi rubbed her back as her love began to sob again, overwhelmed with pain and panic. Zoey sniffled and crumpled against Rumi’s legs, sick staining her chin.

Rumi was using every skill possible to fight a panic attack. She couldn’t crumble. She couldn’t falter. Her girls were in pain. She needed to be strong for them. She needed to remain firm for just a little bit longer, until they were safe.

People were getting closer. Leeches with phones were creeping further, trying to get a better quality video. Rumi felt something animalistic in her chest, a low growl vibrating through her core as she hunched further, blocking her girl's faces from camera view.

An ambulance rounded the corner, followed by a police van.

Please help them.

The police crowded the scene, pushing bystanders back and bringing out caution tape to prevent any citizens from entering the site of the broken building. The EMTs rushed in quickly.

Part of Rumi refused to let them go, refused to relinquish her hold on them. She needed to keep them safe where she could see.

I can't fix this.

“Help them, please.”

“They’re in good hands now. Please let go so we can take care of them.”

The man had kind eyes, despite his firm voice. Maybe he recognized her, maybe not, she didn't care. It didn't matter. She slowly passed Mira's slumped form into his arms. Rumi could've sworn she saw his eyes widen by a fraction as he laid her down to examine her.

He checked her pulse, and then her labored breathing. He examined the wounds, but didn't touch them. He pulled out a walkie talkie.

“I'm gonna need a stretcher. Have oxygen at the ready. Looking at possible 3rd degree burns.”

She hadn't even noticed a second EMT examining Zoey, who whimpered as the gash on her head was prodded.

“Gonna need a stretcher also. Possible head injury and currently in shock.”

Two stretchers emerged from the back of the ambulance, and Rumi felt her heart drop into her stomach. They were gonna be taken from her.

“Rumi-nim, are you in any pain?”

So much. So, so much.

“No…I…I wasn't hurt…just them…” She didn't even give thought to the fact that they definitely recognized her. The blood on her hands and shirt didn’t seem to convince him.

Her sun and moon were being swept away. Mira didn’t stir, and Zoey continued to weep and hyperventilate. Rumi shot up from her spot to follow them. Her legs fell from beneath her before she could even move a single step. Her body halted before she could faceplant into the pavement, the EMT securing her under the arms.

“Deep breaths. Come with me, you have a nosebleed–”

“I-I can't leave them! I need–th-they need–”

The stretchers disappeared into the cave of the ambulance. Rumi thrashed in the man's hold. She needed to be with them. They needed her. She needed them.

“We're getting them the help they need. You'll be with them, come with me, please.” The man assured. She relaxed slightly at that. She didn't even consider the possibility that he could be lying to calm her down. If she could be with them, that's all that mattered. And when he helped her hobble over to the ambulance, she nearly sobbed with relief.

It was bright. Bright and sterile. It smelled of rubbing alcohol and sanitizer—well, from what she could smell. Copper was flooding her senses as blood continued to leak from her nose like a waterfall—and the paramedics and EMTs frantically working didn't ease her worries.

She was guided to a chair to the right of Zoey's stretcher and handed a wad of tissues for her leaking nose. Zoey squirmed as they attempted to lift her legs for the shock and clean the wound on her forehead. She reached a weak arm towards her left, where Mira was being tended to. “...Mira…!”

Rumi's heart cracked. She stuffed her nose and stood to see better. The paramedics had finished cleaning Mira's hand, before they clipped some sort of device onto her pointer finger.

“Mira!” Zoey thrashed. She couldn't breathe. She couldn't see. It was too bright. Mira was dying. Mira had died. Mira needed her. Mira was slipping away and she couldn't reach her. “M-Mira…!”

“Zoey. Zoey, look at me. It's okay.” Rumi gently guided her face to look away. Zoey didn't have the energy to fight it. The maknae's normally bright eyes were wide in terror, swimming with tears. Rumi stroked her cheek, tracing freckles and wiping tears. “It's okay…they're helping her…i-it's okay. Just look at me.”

“Please sit.” A paramedic gently but firmly pushed her back into the chair, allowing them to freely clean and bandage Zoey's face. Zoey squirmed, so Rumi opted to squeeze her hand instead. Blood caked their sticky palms, and Rumi couldn't even confidently say whose it was.

“It's okay, Zo. It's gonna be okay.” She spoke with a confidence she didn't feel; her ‘Leader Voice’ as Mira and Zoey liked to call it. Her chest was heavy with exhaustion and sorrow.

Zoey could only shake her head and squeeze back. It wasn't okay. Nothing was okay. Mira had been dead. They were gonna die.

“Mir-ra…” she hiccupped. “She…she was…” Another sob ripped through her throat. “She…gone…”

“No.” Rumi's chest seized at the mere thought. “Sh-she’s not gone, Zo. She's…right here.”

“No…” Zoey blubbered. “She…” her breaths came in short gasps.

“She’s borderline hysterical. Should we give her ketamine?” A paramedic hummed. Another responded in a hushed murmur Rumi couldn't quite make out.

“Oxygen levels at 88%,” one of the paramedics monitoring Mira called, an edge in his voice. “Start administering, now!”

Rumi could only watch in horror and dread as an oxygen mask was harshly pressed to Mira's face. The dancer convulsed and weakly croaked, a singular sign of life that made Rumi’s pulse roar. The tissues clogging her nostrils were completely soaked in red. Watching medical professionals begin to panic and move with such an urgency made her skin prickle. Nothing was okay. Things were not okay.

“Rumi-nim, your nose.” The same EMT from before handed her a box of tissues. Streaks of crimson leaked down her chin and stained her hoodie. Her digits fumbled with the soiled tissues lodged in her nose. Her blood felt like ice. Her limbs felt like gelatin. The man beside her expelled them for her, replacing them with fresh ones which only remained purely white for a few seconds.

“I-is…how bad is 88?”

“It’s…not good.” The man replied, sighing. At least he was honest, though Rumi would’ve given just about anything to hear that nothing was wrong and everything was fine. “Regular blood oxygen rates are around 95%, and anything below 92% is considered risky.”

“...oh…”

“Mir…” Zoey squirmed. She was no longer thrashing, instead silently weeping as the last of her energy was spent. She coughed, the sound guttural and raw. Rumi tightly squeezed her hand with both of her own, hoping to project any comfort at all.

She could feel the ambulance slow, before coming to a complete stop. Rumi assumed it was just a red light, before the EMTs kicked the back doors open. Rumi jumped at the sound. A ramp was pulled out, and her girlfriends were quickly ushered away into the towering hospital.

“Wait!”

Their paces didn't slow. Why would they? Zoey and Mira needed help, and she couldn't provide it.

I can't help them. I can't fix this.

She fell to her knees on the pavement as her world shifted around her. Her loves were taken away. Her finger pulsed beneath the cold metal of her promise ring.

The same man. The same one that had first tended to Mira, the one that had guided her to the ambulance, had given her tissues for her nosebleed, turned to face her. Those kind eyes reflected a tiredness Rumi understood. The kind that came from exhaustion of nonstop work and vigor.

“Please, clean yourself up and wait. They're in good hands, you should be able to visit shortly.” Rumi didn't move. She hardly even blinked. “Rumi-nim.” She met his eyes. “They will be okay.”

They will be okay.

She couldn't believe that, not yet. Not when she couldn't be with them.

Drip.

Drip.

Drip.

The bathroom sink was stained with red streaks. The light above angrily buzzed in her ears. Her fingers had shifted into a violet tint, spreading up to her wrists. Her skin flared and prickled as her patterns pulsed a sorrowful purple. Her pupils had shrunken, eyes shifting into a pale yellow.

Drip.

Drip.

Drip.

The faucet was faulty. The handle was pushed all the way back. There should be no water.

Drip.

Drip.

Drip.

The mirror was pristine. Too much so. She could see every crease, every shadow, every pattern, every single stress line and every single smear of blood she hadn’t been able to clean off. Her nose had stopped flooding, the last of the tainted tissues stuffed in the waste bin. Her ruined hoodie had been thrown in on top of them.

Drip.

Drip.

Dri–Squeak!

She splashed more cold water on her face. The chill reverberated in her core, through her trembling limbs. Her nerves endlessly buzzed despite the wave of calm that had washed over her. The adrenaline was gone, and that allowed her to actually think and process. What a dangerous concept.

There was a faint throb in her gut from where she’d been kicked. Her muscles screamed with soreness from swinging her weapon in battle. Her legs ached from the running she’d done, both across the rooftops and in the warehouse.

The bombed warehouse.

She sharply inhaled. If she stayed still enough, she could feel the faint vibrations in the floor, the rumble of the world below her shattering into pieces as she remained perched above it all. If she had just been there, been with them, things would be different. She knew it. Zoey wouldn’t be suffering from shock and panic, Mira wouldn’t be fighting for her life, the Honmoon wouldn’t be quivering under her weight.

Please be okay…I’m so sorry…

The faucet shut off with another piercing squeak, before she slowly trudged out the bathroom door, stepping into the brightly lit hallway. Straight to the left was the dreaded waiting room, fairly vacant, which was preferable. Less opportunity to be recognized.

It was pitch black outside from what she could see. The worn soles of her sneakers scraped against the carpet as she dragged herself into a chair. The cushion was firm. The small ticking clock suspended on the wall displayed the time. 21:04.

Two hours. It had been two hours since they embarked on their mission. Two measly hours that had been both the longest and shortest in Rumi’s entire life. How much of that time had she been here? How much of it had she spent curled inconsolably on the pavement? How much of it had been spent in the bathroom, in the ambulance, in that damn warehouse?

Why? Why was this happening? Why them? Why not her? Why was she the only one left unscathed?

She buried her face in her clawed hands. Her chest heaved as the horrific image of Mira’s damaged face flashed into her mind, followed by the panic and despair in Zoey’s eyes. She could’ve prevented it. She could’ve stopped this from happening if she just stayed–

“Rumi!”

Her head shot up, pinpointing the source. A pudgy man rushed through the front doors, shaggy hair framing his face and big concerned eyes focused entirely on her.

“Bobby!”

Bobby wasted no time scooping her into a tight hug. Rumi squeezed him tight, feeling a sting behind her eyes. She inhaled his scent, clean fabric with the faintest of a tropical fruit undertone. It grounded her in the moment as he gently rubbed her back. She hiccuped, salty tears soaking his jacket.

“I’m here, Tiger. I got here as fast as I could.”

“B-Bobbyyy…” The nickname squeezed at her heart. It was a special one he only reserved for the tenderest of moments. It was comical, almost, how he had given her that nickname years ago, completely unaware of the patterns that marked her arms like jagged stripes.

“I’m here. Deep breaths.”

He soothingly traced her spine, making her shiver and crumble further into his gentle hold. Her hands curled into his jacket, likely leaving claw marks. She sobbed. Loudly. Unapologetically. Waves of repressed grief, sorrow, despair, and pain wracked her frame, finally set free. She didn't care if she was making a scene. She didn't care about anything else besides her broken family.

She melted in Bobby's hold, his warmth encasing her despite his smaller size. Her chest seized with unsaid pleas, spasmed with questions she couldn't answer.

“Why, Bobby…?” She croaked. “Why…?”

“I…” Bobby sucked in a breath. “I don't know, Tiger…I wish I knew…”

They remained in their own little bubble. Shielded from the cruel world privy to a pain Rumi couldn't even begin to unpack. Their embrace never broke, even when Rumi's tears had dried and her sobs had subsided.

“...Ryu Rumi?”

Rumi's head shot up from its place in the crook of Bobby's neck. A nurse stood a few feet away, hands clasped in front of her. She bowed, slightly.

“Y-yes?” Rumi stuttered, a surge in her chest. She poorly wiped away any evidence of tears, not fooling anyone.

“Park Zoey is ready for visitors. She's waiting for you.”

Rumi immediately stood, pulling Bobby with her. “...Really? She's okay?”

The nurse nodded, smiling politely. “Room 125.”

“Okay…” she desperately wanted to ask about Mira, too. Was she okay? How bad were her injuries? Why was only Zoey waiting for her? What did that mean for her other missing piece? “Erm…thank you…” she politely bowed in gratitude.

The nurse bowed back before retreating back into the sterile white halls of the hospital, likely on route to tend to some other patient. Rumi's legs trembled beneath her, before she felt a steadying hand on her shoulder.

“You heard her.” Bobby's eyes sparkled with a new urgency. “Zoey's waiting.”

“Zoey!”

“Rumi!”

The halfling practically vaulted across the room in record speed. Zoey was in her arms before she could even blink again. Her normal ocean breeze scent was missing, covered with the smell of rubbing alcohol and plain clothes.

Zoey gripped the back of her tank top like a lifeline, burying her face into Rumi's strong shoulder. She gave a shuddering breath, relief falling on her for the first time since she'd woken up. She melted into the mighty hold, letting herself breathe despite the sting in her eyes.

“Rumi…” The demon heard a sniff, the sound warbled. Plasticy, like something was stuck up Zoey's nose. She pulled back just slightly to look at her girlfriend’s face, alarmed by the presence of a small breathing tube lodged in her nostrils, as well as the patch of white padding on her forehead. She saw an IV strapped to her forearm in the corner of her eye.

“Zo…oh, are you in pain? How's your head? W-Why do you need–”

“I'm okay, Ru.” There was a sluggish rasp to her voice. Her freckled hands slid down her patterned arms until their hands were intertwined. Rumi gripped tight, the cold metal of their rings grounding her. “It’s just a cut; they didn’t find any head injury. They put me to sleep for a bit and,” She gestured to the tube in her nose. “They gave me this to help me breathe cause of the…the uhm…smoke…” Her eyes widened, pupils shrinking. Her breathing picked up ever so slightly, before she coughed, light and raspy.

“Hey, it’s okay. You’re not there anymore. We’re safe. We’re…all safe…” She cleared her throat. “I’m here now, and I’m not leaving, okay?”

Zoey blinked and nodded, eyes shining with unshed tears. The hospital gown they’d given her was large on her, the neck exposing her collarbones and the sleeves reaching down to her elbows. She looked so small, smaller than usual. Rumi could practically see all the unasked questions swirling in her mind. Most of them probably reflected her own.

“Zoey!”

The maknae peered around her girlfriend, eyes lighting up in genuine joy. “Hi Bobby!”

Rumi leaned back to give him room to hug her. Bobby squeezed her tight, mindful of the tubes and IV. She saw a rogue tear slip from Zoey’s closed eye, trickling down her freckled cheek. Probably a tear of happiness, or so she wanted to hope.

“I’m so glad you’re okay, Turt.”

Zoey snorted, a watery smile plastered on her face as she snuggled further into his hold. The special nickname warmed her core. More tears fell, silently. Bobby separated and moved to pull up a chair to sit by the bed side, eyes shining from unshed tears. Rumi scooted to sit next to Zoey on the bed, who wasted no time crawling onto her lap to be held. A familiar pattern, and yet…

“Is…” Zoey gripped Rumi’s shirt, addressing the elephant in the room. “Is Mira…?” Rumi stroked her back.

“We…we don’t know…”

Zoey didn’t say anything, just curled tighter against Rumi’s chest, the pulsing sound of her heartbeat grounding her. It helped just ever so slightly to know that at least one of her partners was safe and sound. Her trembling hands shifted to let the front of Rumi’s shirt go and wrapped around her torso instead.

“...I’m scared…she…” She hiccuped.

“I know Zo…I am too.” Normally, she’d never admit such a thing. Normally, she’d put on a brave face, pretend everything was fine. But she couldn’t. Not when one girlfriend was curled against her and plugged with multiple tubes and the other she didn’t even know was alive. She wouldn’t cry. Not now. She already had her time to cry.

Bobby watched from the side. He knew they were better at comforting each other than he was. He placed a hand on Rumi’s knee, meeting her eyes. I’m here for both of you. Rumi nodded, a ghost of a smile cracking her face.

“She died, Rumi.”

The smile immediately faded. She looked down at Zoey in her arms, afraid she misheard. Her blood felt like ice, freezing her in place. “...what…?”

Zoey held firm. She wasn’t rambling nonsense. She was hallucinating. She was perfectly lucid. Silent tears rolled down her freckled face. “When…th-the bomb…it…when it…”

When it blew up right in Mira’s face. When it killed her. Zoey shivered, the image of Mira’s lifeless body almost taunting her. Rumi’s hands shook as she continued to rub soothing circles across Zoey’s back, eyes flickering yellow as she stared at a random point on the far wall.

“Talk to me, Zo.”

Zoey inhaled. “She was…standing by a wall. She…she told me to run and…a-and I…it went off and…” her breath hitched. “She was dead, Rumi…”

“But…b-but she…” She was alive. She knew she was. She had been alive. She knew it, witnessed it. How could…?

“The Honmoon…” Zoey croaked. “I…I don’t know, it…it just…I don’t know…” tears fell faster, staining Rumi’s tank top.

“It…brought her back?” At Zoey’s nod, Rumi’s hunched shoulders eased ever so slightly.

“That…that can happen?” Bobby couldn’t help but inquire, his own tears silently falling at the news. Mira, his Mira, had died and been revived. He ran a hand through his hair, quiet and unexpected grief hitting him like a tidal wave.

“...I’m pretty sure it’s possible…I just…” Rumi shrugged, not having noticed the hot tears falling into Zoey’s hair. “I didn’t know the Honmoon could do it…” The Honmoon pulsed in response, glowing bright, almost triumphantly. It wrapped around its hunters, a faint yet comforting chill settling in their bones. “Thank you…thank you…”

The Honmoon pulsed yet again. Of course. Always.

There was a knock at the door.

Three heads swiveled as a lean man stepped through the door, dressed in a white coat and holding a clipboard and a black bag. A stethoscope rested around his neck. Only Bobby bowed his head in greeting, the weakened hunters too exhausted and too much curled around each other to manage even that. Rumi wiped at her tears. Zoey didn’t even bother.

“Hello, I’m Doctor Jeong.” His voice was calming, glasses reflecting the bright ceiling lights above. “I’m here to check up on Park Zoey.”

“I’m okay…” Zoey mumbled from her place against Rumi’s chest. The doctor wasn't fazed. He simply pulled another chair to the edge of the bed and sat down.

“It will only take a few minutes. If all is well we can set to have you officially discharged tomorrow morning.”

Zoey sniffed once before uncurling from Rumi's hold. She scooted to sit on the edge of the bed, hands clamped tight in her lap.

Dr. Jeong switched off the machine providing oxygen through the tubes, before carefully removing the breathing tube in her nose with practiced ease, prompting Zoey to take a large freeing breath. The chill air pierced her senses.

The IV removal was similarly simple, a lasting ache echoing through her forearm as it was removed. He quickly reached into his bag and pulled out a spare bandaid, ripping it open and gently applying it to where the injection had been to prevent blood from leaking. He then donned his stethoscope and slid the apparatus under Zoey’s shirt. The chill of the metal made her shiver.

“Inhale, please.” She took a deep breath, before an itch in her throat brought another painful bout of coughs. Dr. Jeong hummed, moving the stethoscope across her freckled skin. “Again.” A successful breath. “One more time.” Another clear breath. The diaphragm moved to her back, and the process repeated, with minimal raspy coughs.

“Everything sounds good.” Dr. Jeong removed the tool from his ears, putting it back to rest around his neck. He reached into his bag and pulled out a box of plastic gloves. He opened it, donning them. “Open wide, please.”

“Aaaaaaaah.” He pressed a finger on her tongue as he examined her throat, squinting behind his glasses and humming. 

“Do you have any throat pain?” he inquired, removing his finger and allowing Zoey to shut her mouth.

“Uh, a bit…”

“As expected.” He nodded. “There is a little redness, but nothing serious. Just be sure to get some rest and drink plenty of water. Maybe limit speaking if there’s too much agitation.” Zoey nodded in response, eyes trailing his movements as he removed his gloves and adjusted his glasses, limbs buzzing in anticipation.

“So I’m fine…” She crawled back into Rumi’s arms. “But…what about Mira?”

The doctor sighed, the warmth in his eyes receding slightly, replaced with a hardened dread. He reached for his clipboard, the paper attached they now recognized as a copy of Mira’s patient file. “I suppose it was only a matter of time…”

“Please…” Rumi croaked. “How bad is it?”

Dr. Jeong adjusted his glasses, eyes scanning the clipboard with a grimness that was told he was unfortunately rather used to this. “Severe third degree burns. We’ve treated them. She sustained a few cuts from shrapnel and other debris that we removed, but they’re mostly minor. No stitches required.”

“Is…i-is that all…?” Zoey hiccuped, too hopeful.

Dr. Jeong sighed. “Unfortunately, no. We ran a vision test. Her right eye appears to be functioning just fine, but…” he sighed again. Zoey clutched even tighter. “Her left eye has sustained heat damage and blunt trauma, and is currently infected.” The girls gasped, holding each other even closer, somehow.

“Wh…” Rumi swallowed. “What does that mean, then? H-how do you even know?”

“There seems to be swelling in her uvea; her lower eye, leading us to believe she's developed uveitis. And when we tested, her eye was unresponsive, and her pupil had lost color, indicating signs of corneal blindness. With the infection, there’s little chance she’ll retain any vision in that eye.”

“So…” Bobby hesitantly spoke from his seat, gripping his thighs tightly. “She’s half blind?”

“Most likely, yes.” The doctor confirmed.

Rumi tightened her hold, her claws beginning to pierce the cloth of Zoey’s shirt. Zoey trembled in her embrace, no longer having the energy to fight tears. Mira, their Mira, half blind. Forever. Rumi gave a shaky sigh.

“Okay…okay…” They’d get through this. They’d be okay. “Do…” she gulped. “Do you know when she’ll wake up?”

“That depends on her.” Dr. Jeong supplied, not easing their worries. “She’s relatively stable, but we’ve put her in a medically induced coma. She inhaled a lot of smoke, and is struggling to breathe on her own, so we’re giving her oxygen therapy; like you, Zoey-nim.” Zoey whimpered in response. “When she begins breathing without assistance, we’ll remove it, and she’ll most likely wake up shortly after.”

Rumi's eyes burned with how hard she was fighting tears yet again. She bit her lip, tasting sweet copper. Her throat seared with restrained sobs.

“As it is,” Dr. Jeong gave a small, tired smile. “Frankly, it's a miracle she's alive. She's got a real guardian angel up there.”

The Honmoon pulsed in their chests. A confirmation. An assurance. Yeah, guardian angel…

“Can we see her?” Zoey spoke up for the first time since she prompted the subject. “Can we please see her?”

“Yes.” The doctor gave his warmest smile, eyes crinkling. “We’ve moved her to a separate wing, as we’re still monitoring her recovery. Upstairs, room 233.”

“Okay…” Rumi bowed her head, buzzing with the urge to sprint away to see her missing piece. Zoey similarly vibrated in her embrace. “Thank you, bagsanim.”

Dr. Jeong nodded and bowed his head, before grabbing his supplies and exiting. Bobby turned to look at his girls, wiping away the last of his tears, eyes shining. “You girls ready?”

They nodded with a shared vigor. They were coming for their moon.

The door loomed over them, the bright lights of the hall beaming down on their worn brows. Zoey leaned against Rumi, still exhausted from her earlier nap and the grief weighing on her bones. Rumi held firm, acting as the anchor her partner needed. Bobby stood next to them, ready to lend a shoulder.

They were ready. However bad it may be. They were ready. They had to be. They needed their Mira. Their Mira needed them.

Rumi opened the door with a trembling hand, painting the way to a new frontier. They took one step into the doorway…and immediately froze.

Mira laid motionless in the bed, tubes and wires plastered to her like she was a robotic experiment. Any part of her they could see was obscured by blankets and stark white bandages. Her vibrant pink hair was tangled, matted and…strangely uneven and charred.

A device rested next to her bed, pumping a consistent flow of oxygen through a mask strapped to her pale face, making her chest quiver with forced breaths. A heart monitor steadily beeped with her weak heartbeat, an IV pricked into her arm providing vitamins, and another in her hand administering blood.

Zoey gasped, a hand rising to cover her mouth. Nausea swam at the sight. Rumi’s jaw dropped, lip quivering. Tears swam and freely flowed. They had hoped to be strong. They thought they were ready.

Nothing could have prepared them for this.