Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

Sunlight barely peaked over the horizon. It hit her eyes, but she barely registered it, head nestled between her knees while sitting on her large, empty bed. 

Rumi didn’t register much these days. Everything felt gray, a dense smog covering her every move, making it feel like she had trudge through life more than actually live it. 

Her friends couldn’t even begin to understand why. She had been like this ever since they completed their goal, and it just didn’t make sense. Of the three, it was the single most important thing to her. She had ended their two week break over it – to push through the release of Golden. Practically pleaded with them to understand after she lost her voice that it needed to happen. 

That they needed to turn the Honmoon Gold.

And so they did. And now Rumi was miserable. 

The worst part? She couldn’t even answer them when they asked her why. Why was she so upset? Outright depressed if anything, but she never bothered going to a therapist. It’s like she changed her mind at the last second, and by then it was far too late. The Honmoon was sealed off, the radiant Gold keeping back the darkness underneath their world. 

Rumi never told the truth to Mira and Zoey, even after she lost her patterns. After all, it didn’t matter. Her patterns were gone, and whatever opinions they had on them wouldn’t matter anymore. 

She fixed herself.

She fixed herself, and they were gone. 

They wouldn’t have loved her if she had them. And now that she doesn’t, why would she ever believe a word that they had to say about something that was gone. It was a mere hypothetical now – the idea of her having patterns. 

(And if they were fine with her having patterns, Rumi didn’t quite know how hard her mind would break from that fact. So she doesn’t want to know. Because if she could’ve told them, it’d make her skin burn even more than when she did have patterns.)

She’s too much of a fucking coward.

She should’ve told them the truth.

She couldn’t have told them the truth.

(They would’ve killed her. It was their duty to banish every last demon from the world. Including her.)

That’s why she fixed herself. It’s what Celine told her.

The mere thought of her mother her mentor made Rumi dig her nails into her knees. Nearly enough to bleed, and not enough to overcome the raw sensation underlying her skin. 

(It’s been like that since the Honmoon turned Gold. Where before the shame and regret and hatred made them burn like a hot iron at times, now all that remained were the phantoms of what once was. The feeling of them being ripped off of her and soothed with nothing.)

(They ached some days, irritated on others, burned violently at the worst times. Nothing she applied on them did anything, and why would it?)

(There’s nothing there anymore. They’re gone. Forever.)

That should’ve been enough for her mentor. Rumi certainly thought so three months ago when she had finally done it. Through the pain and agony that lanced through her body while the Golden Honmoon fixed her body, she held onto the fact that now, now Celine could look at her. Really, truly look at her without having to cover up, to hide herself.

Because they were gone and they’d never come back.

Yet they hadn’t spoken much. Not for lack of trying on Rumi’s part. Her attempts were usually rebuffed though, if she did even receive a reply. When she did meet Celine…

She still wouldn’t look at her. 

She kept looking away.

There’s nothing wrong with her anymore, SO WHY DOESN’T SHE LOVE ME.

Her eyes shut closed to stop the tears from trailing down her cheeks. It didn’t work.

She was a good daughter. She followed everything Celine asked of her. No matter how much pain it caused her, no matter how much she wanted to tell the truth to the people she loved more than herself – more than she could ever love herself because a mistake like her could never be loved the way she was supposed to, no matter how much it felt like half of her soul was missing because that was a part of her and it was stripped away without any care or mind for herself and-

It didn’t matter anymore. They were gone. 

Mira and Zoey would never know. Never had the chance to know.

The first nights after the Idol Awards were quiet. 

They didn’t understand why Rumi suddenly started screaming when the Honmoon turned gold. Smoke started blowing off of her body, but it was hard to focus on her when everything was so damn bright at that moment. The strange illusions that the Honmoon cast on normal people were in full force, no one besides Huntrix themselves knew Rumi was screaming so badly. 

When they tried getting close, she screamed at them. Told them to stay away. Said she was fine. Ran off.

They gave chase.

They didn’t see her for the rest of the night. 

The next morning, Celine called to let them know they had done it. She could feel it in her blood despite being disconnected from the power of the Honmoon. It was that beautiful Gold that so many generations of Hunters had fought, sung, and died to one day generate. Rumi was with her, recovering from something. They were never told what it was. Just that it didn’t matter anymore.

When she came back home, Mira and Zoey frankly didn’t recognize her. Thought she was an intruder, because that wasn’t the girl they fell in love with knew. 

Rumi’s hair remained in that same braid as always, but…it was obsidian black. Like her mother.

(If Celine thought her daughter looked like her old flame before, than she couldn’t have ever imagined how much more similar she could look if she wanted to)

Rumi didn’t want that at any rate. She loved her violet hair, but it was gone. It’d never come back. 

She looked frailer too. And when they felt her on a level only Hunters could feel one another…their worst fears were reaffirmed. A chunk of her was gone, and they didn’t know why. They had felt it that night at the Idol Awards. The pain from the woman they loved cared for resonating out. The Honmoon itself screamed with her even as it transformed into its Golden shade. The duo hoped it wasn’t that bad, but if anything it proved worse.

There was one other thing that stuck out to them. 

Rumi wore a short sleeved shirt. 

Mira felt a little relief, because when she heard her leader had transitioned all of her stage outfits to have long sleeves, when she saw her soulmate only start wearing long sleeves around the house, and when she became so much more modest seemingly out of the blue…

Well, she could be forgiven for being relieved at seeing her arms not have anything on them. 

If Mira and Zoey thought they’d be celebrating when she came back, they were wrong. 

Apparently, they were wrong about a lot of things, but given Rumi refused to answer anything, seemed to clutch at secrets even harder after having closed the Honmoon for good, they didn’t know where to start.

At first they thought it was exhaustion. While they may have been successful, the fact they hadn’t gotten a break in over eight months since the World Tour and the whole nonsense with the Saja Boys and Idol Awards really hit them too. So they let her rest, even if it meant they didn’t really see her for days at a time. Once in a while she’d wander out to barely eat something and then head back to sleep. 

One night, Zoey caught her right before she went back to her room. With those usual puppy dog maknae eyes that never failed to make her friends do whatever she wanted from them, she asked if they could have a movie night. Nothing long or overly committed, just…something to help her feel better.

Rumi stared at her dead in the face with those brown eyes that had lost all shine. Quietly shook her head, and murmured a ‘thank you’ before walking past Zoey like she wasn’t crushed by her.

After about three weeks, Mira had enough. She had already been breaking apart seeing her leader like this. The house had been so fucking quiet even though they won. Celine refused to answer any of her questions, and she could see Rumi was on the precipice, but what other choice did she have? 

Mira confronted her. Started off keeping a solid lid on the boiling anger that had been simmering for nearly a month. Then Rumi kept pushing her away like she was a nobody and not someone who, much like Rumi herself, had given a chunk of her life for the sake of a goal that for whatever reason she didn’t seem to want anymore even though it was already done and they should be celebrating it and not moping around the house. 

Never let it be said that Mira wasn’t an abrasive person. She admitted as much, because she had lived far too many years with people who didn’t give a shit about what she had to say or think or feel, and she was not about to let Rumi get away with doing the exact same crap her parents and fucking brother did to her.

Zoey tried to mediate it, because that’s what she always did between them on the occasions they fought for one reason or another, particularly in their earlier years when Mira didn’t realize Rumi wasn’t perfect.

(She was never perfect. Demons couldn’t be perfect.)

Zoey, however, fell in the exact same boat as Mira. It just didn’t make sense, none of it did. For as much as Mira and her were committed and had done everything in their power to see the Honmoon turn Gold, it didn’t mean a fraction as much as it did for their leader. So why? Why, why, why? 

Why was she so sad? Why did it look like she got broken from the Honmoon turning Gold? Why was her hair black now like her mother? Why did Celine all of a sudden have problems with answering back to Rumi, where before she’d pick up before the first ring was even over? 

They pressed and pleaded and begged because they loved her so much and it hurt them so badly to see her hurt so badly, and they couldn’t understand why she couldn’t trust them when it was all over, they had done it, the Honmoon was Gold and there was nothing more to worry about with their duties. 

They were strong, they had been strong for years and years, surely she could afford to lean on them a little? 

The way she responded was what really struck Mira though. 

She smiled so fakely that it wouldn’t even serve for a stage, much less with two people so attached to her soul. And told them she was fine. Just a little tired from everything in the past year. She only needed rest.

Incandescent would be a far off term to describe Mira then. More like a supernova if nothing else.

And if she said a few things she regretted then Rumi could go ahead and get off her ass to tell her to her face, and not keep lying like nothing was wrong because clearly something was fucking wrong and she still wouldn’t tell them.

When she stormed out of that room, done and drained out and feeling like a little kid again back in that cold house instead of the one she had thought was only full of warmth, Zoey remained behind.

Trapped between her two closest loves friends, unsure of what to do. Feeling like a little kid too and having to pick between California and South Korea. Between being an American and being South-Korean. 

Rumi stared through her like she wasn’t even there. Truthfully, Zoey thought her leader was dissociating the entire time they were talking to each other. Because they weren’t really talking to each other. It was more like Mira and Zoey talking at Rumi, and Rumi playing along because that’s what she was supposed to do to make them worry less.

It didn’t work.

She didn’t know what to do. Their family should’ve been stronger than ever before, and yet she could feel it pulling apart at the seams even more than during the stuff with the Saja Boys. She thought they moved past that, and maybe they did, but it was straight off into the abyss of something worse somehow.

The only thing she could do was to give what Rumi wanted – space. 

Even if it felt like she was carving herself open with her own shin-kals.

By the second month, Celine (how gracious of her) informed the board of directors they were going on a temporary hiatus. 

By the third, it became indefinite. 

Fans speculated and tried to pry open the secrets from their penthouse, but nothing came of it, because no one really expected anything from Huntrix after such a phenomenal performance at the Idol Awards. Bobby kept them at bay. 

They deserved a break.

Nothing changed inside of those walls. 

Mira and Zoey ventured out sometimes to do their usual excursions. Snack runs. Parkour. Bathhouse visits. The latter of which they always, always tried to invite Rumi to attend. 

(Even with Mira being so angry at her, she refused to lock her in.)

(Zoey appreciated it more than words could describe. That Mira had grown so much these past few years, to be willing to extend olive branches even when the other may not necessarily deserve it. At least for those who she loved and who she thought loved her back even if it was hard sometimes to think Rumi still did.)

She was wearing short sleeve shirts now, she didn’t have anything on her skin, she was okay after all those years of worrying something deeply, deeply wrong was happening – that their worst fears of Rumi doing something irrevocable to herself weren’t real. She had no reason not to go, she had even tentatively offered it up herself right before the Idol Awards. 

Rumi changed her mind. Told them she wasn’t feeling okay. Maybe some other time.

(She’d never feel comfortable because before Golden, Rumi didn’t want to look at herself because those cruel patterns crawled all over her body and they were a mistake and she was a mistake, but that feeling never changed when she glimpsed at herself heading into the shower and now they were gone and it didn’t feel right even though she was fixed and should’ve been all better now.)

(She wasn’t better. She was a mistake, and that mistake didn’t disappear with her patterns.)

After all, if it did, then why did Celine continue to refuse looking at her? Rumi wore long sleeves even around her, even though she knew the truth, because she hated them, despised demons like Rumi more than anything else. Now that they were gone, just like Celine said they would be, they could live the life they were meant to have before Rumi’s heritage ruined it all.

Rumi could finally have the mother that was taken away from her too soon. 

The one she pushed away because of those patterns that crawled on her back. 

It was her fault Celine could never love her, but now? Now she didn’t know whose fault it was. 

Because it couldn’t be Rumi, because what else could possibly be wrong with her now? 

Once, Mira, Zoey, Rumi, and Celine were in the same room together after their success. It proved very brief because it was beyond awkward and tense and cold. It’d have been a fairer reaction if they had torn apart the Honmoon with their bare hands, but they didn’t. They won, and yet the tea party lasted all of about fifteen minutes. 

The fragile, non-existent peace had been shattered when Zoey commented Rumi’s new appearance made her look a lot more like her mother. It didn’t mean anything profound. She thought Rumi would love that, love the fact she bore a closer similarity to the woman who loved her, even if she couldn’t be around for much of her life.

Celine froze, irises shrinking into pinpricks. Rumi wasn’t breathing anymore. Mira didn’t know what to say because she hadn’t had a fucking clue of what was going on for the entire period since their so-called victory. And Zoey suddenly felt like she should’ve kept her big mouth shut that had gotten her in trouble at school all the time in Burbank. 

Tea was over and Celine didn’t invite them back to the estate. They were welcome to come over, the doors were always open to them and only them as Hunters, but they weren’t stupid and could read between the lines. If Celine did answer them, it was meandering and distracted at best. Especially if Rumi was involved in the slightest. 

If Mira thought it was painful for her mentor to be stonewalling her like that, Rumi must’ve been positively broken. It’d have been a simple enough reason to understand why her leader was depressed after their victory, but Mira was smarter than that. 

There was more, and she’d never be privy to know. Because after everything they had gone through together, Rumi didn’t trust her. 

(Rumi didn’t stop saying she loved her altogether, but really, neither did her parents. Why would she believe Rumi any more than she did them?)

(Trust is a two-way street, and the girl she loved cut her off like it all meant nothing, and had the audacity to not tell her why.)

Her mother and patterns weren't the only causes of her aching wound of a heart demons don’t have hearts.

Because Huntrix didn’t make the Honmoon Gold by themselves in the end. Gwi-ma tried to stop them with the Saja Boys, and they very well could have were it not for the pesky little detail that their leader wasn’t cooperative.

Admittedly, a part of her had been nervous that night before the Idol Awards. She bore her soul to Jinu, and he in return did the same, but she could sense the wounds ran deep with his master. If he didn’t do his part…

Her worries were for naught. Jinu held his nerve and distracted his fellow demons. Nothing interrupted their performance of Golden. And then the world became brighter than ever before.

While she recovered at the estate, barely conscious of what was going on after having shambled her way over from the stadium, she wondered what happened to him. Rumi hoped Derpy and Sussie would be able to help her find him once she recovered enough.

It had been nearing the end of her stay at the estate that she ran into them in the wide landscape. The perpetual smile on Derpy’s face was gone. Sussie stared at her blankly.

The tiger dropped a familiar purple bracelet onto the ground. Ripped from its owner, never to be worn by him again.

The hope in her heart that at least someone had a happy ending out of the whole affair evaporated into mist. She begged and pleaded for him to come out, it wasn’t funny, please let it not be true that she had lied and that right then, beneath the Gold covering the world around her, he was underneath. 

Each passing day made her heart fracture into more pieces. The sickening theory slowly becoming affirmed: The Golden Honmoon forced every demon back into the underworld.

Which meant Jinu was with Gwi-ma. Who he betrayed. For her.

Alone.

Abandoned.

By her.

Over the years, Rumi had failed a lot of people. It was inevitable in a war like theirs fought in the shadows, acting as soldiers as much as they were Hunters. None failed to leave their mark on her psyche, but none quite registered like Jinu. 

Jinu, the demon who took the chance to reach out to her, even if it hadn’t been with good intent at first.

Jinu, the first person who looked at her, all of her, including her patterns, and didn’t look away. Accepted her, and gave her voice back, the thing that helped give her life meaning.

Jinu, who risked eternal damnation and suffering by sticking his neck out to help her.

And she left him to Gwi-ma. 

It was all her fault.

He said she wasn’t a mistake. She didn’t get why. 

Because what else but a mistake could abandon someone like Jinu. 

Who had only become a demon to help his family, while she tore hers apart.

Rumi had only known Jinu for all of a week give or take. She didn’t think the word ‘love’ was appropriate for what she felt for him she’s a coward who can’t process her feelings for anyone, whether Jinu or her soulmates. That didn’t make it hurt any less, clutching onto Jinu’s bracelet in her hands, and muffling her sobs. Much like her patterns, she never told anyone else about him. His sacrifice only known to her, and with any luck it’d die with her.

Sometimes in the middle of the night, when the city and her girls were asleep, she’d wander around aimlessly trying to find him. Endless tears streaming down her cheeks, guilt weighing down her every move. 

Sometimes, she wishes her patterns weren’t taken away, and that she was dragged down with him instead.

At least then he wouldn’t be alone.

No demons had crossed over since it turned Gold.

It was like Celine said: a perfect, unbreakable barrier. 

Which meant they were all free to wallow among themselves with nothing to interrupt them.

Rumi hadn’t spoken much with her friends since the confrontation. Mira and Zoey talked with one another, but nothing could fill the gap left in their souls. 

She’s the only one who could.

She rejected their offers to talk, and never reached back in return.

They were sitting at the kitchen island when she walked in.

For a few moments, all they could do was stare silently. So many things unsaid and unable to be said. 

Per usual, Rumi turned to walk out. 

Zoey’s mouth parted open…

The world warped with waves of pink, and all of them stiffened in fear and disbelief. Rumi’s eyes widened in outright terror. No, no, no, it had only been three months, even if it didn’t last forever it had to last longer than that. And in their house!?

They may not have practiced much, but they weren’t out of shape. And for all the pain and disagreement that lay between them, nothing would stop them from completing their duty.

Bursting out from the kitchen, Rumi’s saingeom, Mira’s gok-do, and Zoey’s shin-kals were primed and ready to fight whatever came through.

On the other side, Huntrix met…Huntrix?

Chapter Text

Huntrix were at the top of the world.

Maybe Rumi was projecting, but she had never felt happier in her entire life.

Their hiatus transitioned naturally into preparations for their Comeback album. This is What It Sounds Like would be their debut a few days from now, and being with her girls in their studio and choreography rooms and jamming out without the weight of her heritage on her shoulders was simply indescribable.

For the first time she could dance for hours and not be heaving with heat exhaustion by the end of it from wearing multiple layers of clothes. 

She could sit and play with her guitar and not have to double check her sleeves weren’t riding up.

Her patterns could shine like kaleidoscopes in the house, freely letting her emotions out and painting their penthouse in beautiful colors. 

(When Mira and Zoey called her patterns gorgeous and traced them with their hands, she nearly blinded them with how bright she became. The shame was gone, and all that was left was so much love.)

Rumi could breathe without feeling like chains were constricting her lungs, the want to say something to her soulmates forever locked behind a wall of fear. Now it was out and she couldn’t be better.

That didn’t mean there weren’t hiccups.

The week after the Idol Awards was hard. They talked a lot. Rumi doesn’t think she had ever been so honest before. No more lies, no half-truths, nothing held back.

Even if it meant a lot of pain for those she loved.

She could never forget the devastated looks on Zoey and Mira’s faces. The way she could hear their hearts crack the moment she confessed to what she thought was necessary to fix herself. To fix her mistakes starting with herself. 

Rumi knew now how bad it would’ve been. If the last time they saw her alive was behind that stage, and if the next they saw her she was in the dirt by the tree. Had been reassured time after time how much they regretted their choice to let her go, and how their hearts never would have recovered from that.

Perhaps that was why some time after that week of tears, of long open wounds being finally healed and with their souls given utterly to one another without restraint or regress, Rumi decided to take the leap of faith.

For the second time, she chose herself, and for that she had two wonderful soulmates by her side as girlfriends. The very word nearly made her kick her feet like a teenager, because what the fuck? If you had told her a year ago that she’d not only have her patterns, but have them be shown to her friends and accepted and loved all the same, and for them to be in love with her while knowing what she was?

She’d be hysterical, and she was. Sometimes. 

Because, again, what the fuck was her life right now?

Celine…well, they didn’t speak for a while.

She had no interest at first in following up after her…request. And if being forced to hide her true self from Mira and Zoey was enough, then asking for that certainly did make them shut the door on their mentor too.

(They cried a lot after coaxing that part of her. Reminded her how much they loved her with each new dawn that she bore witness to. Gently asked if she’d be willing to sleep with them for a little while they didn’t want her to sleep somewhere with a balcony and lonely thoughts, as they used to when they were younger before her patterns spread too much to allow the risk.)

(They didn’t stop sleeping together, as it were.)

(The two did love Celine for everything she did for them, like pulling them away from the miserable lives they had before Rumi became a part of them, but their love for their leader overrode anything else.)

It was an immense surprise when Celine herself reached out. A one on one meeting at the estate to settle things. Her girls weren’t certain if she should go, but they supported her and her decision, whatever it may be. Rumi had no clue what awaited her, but that evening ended more…tame than she thought it would be. Quite awkward too.

Her mother admitted her choices weren’t the best. And while those may not have been the best words to use, it was something. For someone so full of pride and so dedicated to the cause of purging demons from their world, who had long harmed them in irreparable ways like she had been, Rumi could understand.

Maybe Celine didn’t deserve it, but what mattered more to Rumi was having the choice to decide that for herself. And Celine made it clear from the outset that if Rumi didn’t want her in her life anymore, then that was that. 

(Because no matter what she was willing to say aloud, she recognized she had failed her daughter Mi-yeong’s child miserably. After all, what had she done to give Rumi the idea that she’d ever murder her own child?)

She’d drain her own body of every last drop of blood before her sickles ever touched Rumi.

(The memory of Rumi kneeling before her, begging to die, begging for her to do it would never go away.)

“Do what you should’ve done, a long time ago…”

Celine only asked for time. She needed time to think, and to process Rumi’s decisions. 

Even if her stomach roiled a little at the thought of lingering disapproval from her mother regarding her heritage, Rumi could grant it. For every memory she had of Celine looking away, of pushing her to keep the truth from her girls, of insisting she keep her sleeves down…

They were accompanied by warm nights with tea and her favorite foods, of the stories Celine willingly and happily recalled of her birth mother, of teaching her how to tie her hair into its distinct braid, of training sessions that although harsh ended in care and comfort for any injuries — rare as they were.

It was hard, and it’d continue to be for a while. They had skipped over a lot of things in their initial chats, wounds too grievous and open to address. Maybe it wasn’t worth it, but for Celine, she’d try.  

(The thought of letting Celine go from her life hurt nearly as much as everything her mother did to her.)

So they kept exchanging messages, albeit rarer and more sparsely. Met with each other for dinner biweekly. One day things ended a little quicker because Celine had a hard time looking at her patterns, and Rumi refused to wear long sleeve shirts anymore. And it hurt and made her want to end everything between them, but the next time they met and Celine pointedly kept her eyes on her the entire time to prove to Rumi and herself that her mom was taking steps, even if small ones, made it all seem more worthwhile. 

Because very little could quite replicate the warmth that a mother can give you, just as very little could replicate the hurt that your loved ones could inflict the nightmares from the Idol Awards haunted them all no matter how many apologies and forgiveness alike were given.

It was a good thing, then, that Rumi had a lot of love to give. And she really, really didn’t want to let go of the love she could now openly receive. For all of herself.

The Honmoon wasn’t perfect.

Zoey had taken to calling it the “Rainbow” Honmoon (Mira jokingly referred to it as the Gay Honmoon which never failed to make Rumi deadpan stare before giggling up a storm with Zoey). It was stronger — a lot more in fact — and with Gwi-ma seemingly gone, the focused efforts in destroying it became nonexistent. 

The occasional breakthrough happened at a lesser rate, but they found the demons that did make it were far weaker and never able to harm the overworld like they could in the past. 

Sometimes, Rumi felt guilty at what they had done. The efforts of countless generations of Hunters to craft the unbreakable Golden Honmoon being wasted away because of her screwup. If she had been a little stronger, a little better, a little less of a demon maybe they could’ve succeeded in what she was born to do. 

Celine never outright said anything, particularly about her final remark of being “glad to see it destroyed,” and Rumi never asked in return she feared what answer she’d receive. If their Honmoon, the omni-colored one that was theirs, one born out of acceptance and love no matter their faults and fears, was okay. If it was the right choice in the end, to accept and choose herself over the good of the world and their future. 

Every time she did though, her patterns betrayed her true sentiments, and her soulmates were right there to talk and reassure her way through them. It was hard letting go of those thoughts, and truthfully, Mira and Zoey had them too. 

However, they held steady on one thing.

If it came down to making the world perfect, or protecting her and her heritage, they’d always, always choose her first. Because in the end, she was what mattered the most to them. Not the Honmoon, not their duties, not Celine, not humanity, her.  

(Rumi was turning into a crybaby, but it wasn’t her fault when her girls were so fucking wonderful.)

The Honmoon wasn’t perfect, but that was okay. They didn’t need to be, and neither did it. 

Nevertheless, it did make things slightly annoying when they were cuddling up on the couch, TV on low volume playing some documentary on marine life, and about to start ripping into bags of snacks right before they felt the ever distinct pulse of something coming through. 

Though they groaned at abandoning their couch, they didn’t hesitate in protecting their fragile world. 

Arriving on scene after parkouring their way over, the usual batch of demons were found prowling around after recovering from the newfound exertion of breaching the Rainbow Honmoon. One of them did catch Rumi’s eyes, though. 

She had never seen a demon quite like it. A little wisp of a creature with petals dripping from it, a light gold tone that made her think of what they failed to create. The faintest smile on its poorly defined face that bore no other features. And the sound of a grandfather’s clock ringing, although it was very hard to hear over the sound of battle.

Most demons they fought were Dokkaebi, spirits born from nothing and forever bound to the underworld, to Gwi-ma, or to objects in the living world. Typically, they tried to look like humans, fooling innocents until the last moment.

‘What’s wrong with this one…?’

As she cut down faceless monstrosities, flawlessly parrying and weaving her way through the crowd, singing with her girls who harmonized with her to create a perfect melody that further weakened their foes and strengthened themselves, her mind flitted through the catalog of demons Celine drilled into her. 

‘Kind of like…a Dokkaebi-Bul, but those don’t try to do anything. Why is it even here?’

It didn’t take long for them to finish the skirmish, the last of their enemies being sent back into the depths. The Honmoon stitched itself back together before reinforcing easily. What broke it into pieces only made it stronger thereafter.

Gathering up with her girls, Rumi started creeping closer to the wisp, her chilseong-kal glimmering under the night sky. Her grip firm and natural, even with its upgraded state, the sensation of a soul buried within helping her keep calm. 

(He remained with her, even in death.)

“The heck is that?” Zoey murmured unsurely while readying to fire off a volley the moment it tried anything. 

Mira’s hold on her gok-do tightened, “I don’t know, but if it’s here, then we should kill it.” 

The ringing was getting louder. A shiver ran down their spines, and Rumi’s patterns had a pulse run through them – instincts and something within her blade screaming at her. 

She swung without hesitation. 

In that fraction of a second, it giggled hauntingly. 

And then, all became gold. 

‘You are Hunters, voices strong.’

‘What?’

‘Saving demons with your song.’

‘...?’

‘Fix their world, and make it right.’

‘Whose…?’

‘Let their darkness finally meet your light.’

The next thing they knew, they were crashing into their penthouse couch. 

“Ow, ow ow…thank goodness we don’t have practice tomorrow…” Zoey murmured while buried between cushions. Mira slowly lifted her head up from where she faceplanted on the floor. 

Their nice, hard wooden floor. “...what’re you complaining about, huh?” 

Rumi, meanwhile, got an even better landing spot. 

The granite table. 

“Can I just…go to bed?” She croaked.

Mira and Zoey picked themselves up first, and after a shared wince helped lift Rumi up. 

Cracking her back, she looked around them and furrowed her brow, “Huh, wasn’t it nighttime?” The sunset framed them with shades of gold and orange. 

“Better yet, why’re we home?” Mira gestured generically, “Did it just teleport us?”

Zoey shrugged, “That would be pretty ni-”

The door to the kitchen area slammed open violently.

Everything slowed down. 

It was like a weird fever dream. Their minds took a few seconds to process what they were seeing, and it didn’t quite compute.

Rumi, Mira, and Zoey were now looking at…themselves…?

They looked a tad different. The other Mira and Zoey from the kitchen seemed more unkempt. Like they weren’t taking care of themselves that well. The latter in particular had red circles around her eyes, as though she had been crying a lot. 

What really made a pulse of sheer disbelief rocket its way through the Huntrix of the living room was when their eyes settled on the other Rumi. 

Brilliant brown eyes locked on with another set that had lost their shine. 

One’s hair remained a gorgeous violet braid that Zoey and Mira adored helping with every morning. The other was barely tied together raven locks, dirty and untouched. 

And while they both had their arms exposed with their tanktops…

Only one had those shining, iridescent patterns that could light the skies above them.

Rumi couldn’t breathe. It looked so unbelievably wrong. She had dreamt of it, yearned for it at times and feared the mere thought at others, but seeing it now made her stomach roil with disgust. It was wrong. So deeply wrong.

Before anyone could think, instincts kicked in for those who were already high-strung.

The other Mira called out to her girls, “Patterns! They’re demons!” She leapt forward to meet her counterpart, bringing her gok-do down in a wide swing. An excellent attack for an enemy that shouldn’t have a weapon of their own to block it. 

Shin-kals were drawn back to then be flung towards Zoey, who tensed and readied to dodge even while barely understanding what the hell was going on. She didn’t need to though.

A shimmer accompanied by an elevating hum signaled the re-summoning of her Rumi’s chilseong-kal, brought up to act like a shield against its own brethren. The contact proved deeply uncomfortable, an unnatural sensation that Celine had warned about many times.

“Never draw your weapons against each other. You are Hunters woven from the same melody – the Honmoon. They are light incarnate crafted to defeat only the dark. Let the thing it finds be your foes, and your foes alone.” 

The words were dramatic, but they took it to heart aside from that terrible, terrible night. And when the sheer coldness hit all of them, as though a tub of ice were dumped over their heads, they realized she had been quite right. 

Nevertheless at the same time, their Mira brought up her own gok-do to clash against her now wide-eyed counterpart. Taking advantage of the shock and that same cold sensation, she shoved her back and regrouped with her girls. 

With all besides the other Rumi bearing their weapons of light, it gave the time needed for Zoey to try to intervene before a proper fight began, “Calm down, guys! We’re not demons, we’re…uhh…you?” She trailed off a little while wondering if this was one of her weirder dreams.

The other Huntrix remained tense. The different Rumi in particular continuing to have a dead-eyed stare at her counterpart’s patterns. Ones that seemed to lack the shame inherent to all demons. Patterns that existed and were exposed to her friends. 

They can see them.

Why aren’t they doing anything?

She’s a little demon, it’s so obvious. 

So why are they fighting alongside her like nothing is wrong. 

Why aren’t they killing her like they’re supposed to?

She couldn’t breathe.

The Zoey and Mira across from the Rumi with patterns took them in, confused out of their mind and struggling to keep up. Slowly, the younger one spoke, “Why…does your Rumi have patterns?” Glancing behind at her own Rumi, as though to reassure herself that her leader wasn’t a demon didn’t have the stains that made her a little monster.

“How’re you even here? Why did our own selves break through the Golden Honmoon?” The other Mira snarled while trying to keep herself in check. It wasn’t working.

A blink. Emotions cycling through all three of them, starting off with bewilderment that bled into disbelief, then shock and finally…

The Rumi with patterns bore a look of pure horror.

Stepping forward, keeping her gaze locked on herself, she murmured shakily, “Y-You…you turned the Honmoon…Golden?” 

Very helpfully, their Hunter’s vision kicked in, and they watched the world be bathed in golden waves that wrapped beautifully around their home, weaving between them like nothing was wrong. 

Her Mira and Zoey became pale. The same horrific understanding registering in their heads while they looked at another Rumi…

Another beautiful, gorgeous, frailer, wonderful Rumi…

Without patterns. 

And she still couldn’t breathe.

They were standing right beside her. 

They were right there. 

They didn’t turn their Honmoon Golden.

They knew about her patterns.

They knew about her patterns, and they didn’t kill her.

Rumi had a lot of love to give. 

For much of her life, she didn’t have anyone to give it to, because the one person she had couldn’t love her – all of her – in return. 

Eventually, when she had her girls come into her life, loving her as much as she loved them, she tried to feel content. They openly told her how much they loved her, unlike Celine who struggled to do the same when she knew of those cruel lines drawn across her body. 

(That didn’t change when they were gone.)

In the end, she couldn’t be content because she knew her girls only loved a part of her, just like her mother mentor. It didn’t make sense to love only a part of someone, because all of her made up the whole that was herself. And if they couldn’t love all of her, then how could she be expected to do the same? 

That’s why she begged and pleaded for Celine to let her try, to see if they’d understand. Because she couldn’t bear living more days with these girls that she loved in a way she was too cowardly to confess and keep her true self hidden away for much longer. 

Every time…“Nothing can change until your patterns are gone.”

Things had changed now that her patterns were gone.

And she hated it.

The shame was gone, and now all that remained was hate.

Hate at what she was forced to let go of.

Hate at having kept it a secret all her life.

Hate at herself and Celine for what was done to her.

Right now though…staring at her counterpart, bearing those patterns with pride, openly to her soulmates like they didn’t mean anything, like it was normal and she could’ve been like that the entire time, and she didn’t have to have them be ripped off of her like a fucking parasite, leaving nothing but an empty husk that still wanted to die-

Those empty brown eyes filled with something for the first time in three months.

With hate.

And so she did the only thing she could think of right now.

And ran.