Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

*Present Day - Penthouse*

The bathhouse had been nice. Relaxing with her girls. Being in the moment. Not having to hide anymore. Being able to just be and enjoy life, was wonderful. But… something was just… missing. Rumi couldn’t quite put her finger on it.

They had finally defeated Gwi-Ma. Her girls knew about her patterns, and while they didn’t take it so well at first, they had come around afterwards. But still, something was missing and it left a void between the three of them.

Mira was just as distant and aloof as always, but she seemed to be pulling back and handling Rumi with kid-gloves. It was like she was afraid that at any second she would say or do the wrong thing, and Rumi would break or snap or something.

Zoey was clingy and needy – no surprise there – but she seemed afraid to actually touch Rumi’s bare skin. Whenever she went in for a hug, or passed her in the kitchen, or reached for any casual contact, she couldn’t bring herself to touch Rumi’s patterns.

Rumi’s damned patterns.

Rumi was getting frustrated. Gwi-Ma’s defeat should’ve brought them closer together, gotten rid of all the hiding and awkwardness. And yet, here they were, halfway through the Comeback Tour, and they could barely speak to one another. Not out of anger, but… Rumi wasn’t even sure what to name it.

Something had to give.

--

Bobby had managed to get them a whole four-day weekend to themselves, to just relax and recoup. The last two months had been grueling. They never really gave themselves a proper break, but that was finally catching up to them. So, with this miraculous mini vacay, Rumi had decided it was time to break whatever this tenuous truce was between them.

She had been up all night, tossing and turning. Nightmares of the Idol Awards haunted her regularly, but this night was different. It wasn’t just watching Jinu get consumed by flames. It wasn’t the Honmoon shattering in her wake. It wasn’t even begging Celine to end it all. (That one had become more frequent since the girls had pulled away from her.) All of those were pretty regular fixtures. But not that night. That night was something different. Something so much worse.

Every time she closed her eyes she watched Mira and Zoey draw their weapons on her.

Every time she woke fitfully, she tried to calm her breathing and bring her heartrate down, but the exhaustion would overtake her, and she would fall back into a fitful sleep. Only to be confronted with the same scene, just slightly different each time.

Each version started the same way, with her making her way down the stairs, excited to see them. So grateful they were there. Then they would see her patterns. The first dream played out exactly as it had that night, but each time she fell asleep, Mira and Zoey were less and less sad or disappointed or even scared. They started looking delighted, a wicked glint in their eyes. They had transformed into the demons from the stage, and they were only too happy to take her to her end. The things they whispered to her as they sought to destroy her… Mira’s silky timbre seducing her to believe the pain, Zoey’s lilting voice stinging like a physical blow.

“We see what you are.

You’re a demon.

A mistake.

You have been since the day you were born.”

Each time one of them said that last sentence, she awoke with a sob catching in her throat. When she finally woke up for the last time, she was gasping, and she knew she couldn’t keep doing this. She needed them, she was struggling. Badly. As scared and hurt as she was, she knew if they didn’t reconnect soon, she knew she would lose them forever. And she could Not lose them.

--

She had decided at dinner the following night that something had to give, and it might as well be

her. They had all sat around the table, take-out containers spread out, each girl pushing her food around rather than really eating. Which, in and of itself, was just weird, considering their voracious appetites. Rumi had looked up and tried to make eye contact with them, but whenever she got close…

Mira had glanced up and caught Rumi smiling at her sadly. Her eyes went wide and she blanched, immediately finding something fascinating in her rice. Zoey wasn’t even looking at her food, just staring off into space. When Rumi tried to catch her eye, Zoey blinked several times then swiftly turned her gaze to the window. Rumi slumped in her seat, then decided she was done. She wanted to talk, she wanted to clear the air, but if they wouldn’t even look at her, how the hell was she going to do that? She cleared her place, murmured a ‘g’night’ and beat feet to her room, tears stinging her eyes.

What she didn’t see was Zoey and Mira slouching in their seats then making sad eye-contact.

“What are we gonna do? Things can’t stay like this.” Zoey whispered in Mira’s direction.

“I know, Zo. I just… I dunno. Things were so good those first few days. What the hell happened?”

“Well, I have a few ideas…”

“Just a few?” Mira grinned despite herself. Hearing Zoey sound a little like her old self warmed a part of her heart she had almost forgotten about.

“Actually? Thirty-two. But here’s what I really think: we never hashed it all out, ya know? Everything that happened, we just kind of brushed past it and kept going. We went to the bathhouse and then never talked about it again. She has every right to be mad at us, to scream and cry and let it out, but she’s not, because she’s Rumi. And I think she deserves the chance.”

“Yeah, I think you’re right,” Mira smiled weakly, she had missed listening to Zoey’s rambling, even if it was about something so damned dark and sad, “I’ve missed you, ya know?” Mira shifted her gaze down to her folded arms, hoping Zoey didn’t see her teary eyes.

Zoey cracked a soft grin, “Yeah, me too Mir. I’m just glad you didn’t take off the second I started talking about this,” her smile faded as her voice dipped. She pulled her knees to her chest, whispering, “Everything seems so fragile right now. I just… I can’t lose you guys.”

Mira’s heart fractured a little at that. She rubbed her eyes for a second, then moved to sit next to Zoey. Slipping an arm around Zoey’s shoulders she pulled her into a tight embrace, “I know, Zo. Me too.” After a moment’s hesitation, she gently pressed a kiss to the top of Zoey’s head. Zoey turned to look up at her with a question on her lips, but Mira only smirked and said, “So, how do you want to do this? I know you have a plan.”

--

Back in her room, Rumi muttered grumpily to herself as she paced, getting ready for bed.

“Dunno what to do… I miss them… but I’m so scared… what if they hate me… what if they want me gone… and just won’t say anything… ugh…”

Derpy and Sussie watched her pace back and forth. Sussie cocked his head… trying to discern what the was with this odd being. Derpy on the other hand was watching her like one would watch a tennis match.

When she finally stopped, she took a deep breath and let the tears begin. She sank to her knees and wrapped her arms tightly around Derpy’s neck, “I can’t keep living like this. It’s killing me.”

She curled into Derpy’s chest, finding comfort in the goofy old tiger’s blue fur and deep purring, and she sobbed.

--

“So, what do you think? Think it’ll work?” Zoey asked excitedly inside Mira’s tight embrace, head still against her shoulder. She was fiddling with the strings of Mira’s hoodie, tying and untying them into different knots.

Mira wouldn’t admit it to anyone, but she loved this. Having Zoey in her arms. It felt like home. She and Rumi had always felt like home. The weight of Zoey against her chest warmed her in a way she couldn’t put into words. This was different than just a hug or the way they cuddled when they watched a movie; it was closer, it was more. She just wasn’t sure how.

“Mir?” Zoey sat up a bit and turned to look at her. The shifting weight seemed to bring Mira back to reality.

She blinked a few times and cleared her throat, “Oh, um, I dunno, sure.”

Zoey cocked her head to the side, staring at her quizzically. It made Mira squirm and a slight pink blush crept up her neck.

“What were you thinking about? I thought you wanted to hear my ideas…” Zoey seemed to sink inward, like she thought Mira was bored with her.

Mira immediately pulled her back down for a hug and kissed the top of her head again, “Nothing, jagiya. Just, got distracted I guess.”

“Hmmm. Okay then.” Zoey said with a shrug and dove right back in, “So, I think if we use this weekend to do some of the fun things we used to do, then maybe we might be able to break through somehow.”

“What kind of fun things? We don’t have a lot of time, and I don’t want to make her too uncomfortable. Maybe we should do stuff here?”

“Yeah! We could make a big breakfast tomorrow or have a movie marathon of all her favorites!” Zoey sat up, clapping several times with a big goofy grin, all excitement and zero worry. It was beautiful and it made Mira melt. She was so cute when she got excited like that.

Whoa Mira! Hold it. What was that? Melt? Cute?

Mira tried to shift her melty smile into something more “Mira” but was woefully unsuccessful.

She swallowed hard and managed to say, “You know what? That sounds really awesome. Just one problem.”

Zoey shrunk a little, “What?”

“Neither of us knows how to cook.”

--

Sleep felt pointless with so many damned nightmares. She hardly felt rested at all. Ugh. She knew she had to get up. She just didn’t want to face the day, but she needed her girls. Somehow, she had to get through this and make her way back to them.

She managed to disentangle herself from a cuddling Derpy (her bed was Not large enough for this, seriously) and make her way to her bathroom. She avoided the mirror as long as she could… she should’ve kept avoiding it. When she finally made eye contact with herself, she saw exactly how terrible the night had been to her; her braid was halfway undone and so, so tangled, her eyes were red and puffy, her face was blotchy, and her hoodie was covered in tears, drool, and snot. Lovely.

“Oh, that’s sexy…” She grumbled at her reflection and decided to get a shower.

She cranked the water as hot as she could stand, the mirror fogging up perfectly.

“Take that.” She flipped off the mirror and slipped into the shower.

She hissed when the hot water pelted her stiff shoulders, groaning as it seeped into her braid. Her fingers massaged her scalp working out the knots, loosening the knots, allowing it to cascade down her back.

“A hot shower could solve world hunger, I swear,” she whispered as she leaned against the shower wall, absorbing the heat and pain, watching her patterns respond to each scalding droplet.

“Well, that’s interesting. I wonder if–”

Sussie squawked from her bedroom.

She quickly turned off the water, tossed a towel across her chest, and leapt into her room.

She wasn’t sure what she was expecting, but it was Not Zoey and Mira standing in her doorway with two large trays of takeout breakfast foods and awkward smiles plastered on their faces.

They all stared at each other.

Then Mira gestured to Derpy and Sussie with clear what the fuck expression.

Rumi blinked, realizing she had never told them about the spirit animals. They always just appeared when she needed them – they weren’t exactly house pets.

“Oh, um. Long story. What’s up, guys?”

Rumi went for nonchalance. It did not work.

“You gonna get dressed or do we get a free show?” Mira asked flatly.

 “Mira!” Zoey nudged her hard in the ribs.

“Ow! What? It’s a fair question…”

Zoey ignored her.

“We wanted to bring you breakfast in bed, but we didn’t think you’d be up already. We’ll let you get dressed.”

Zoey waited. When Rumi didn’t reply,  she added–softening–

“Have breakfast with us, Rumi. Please? We miss you. Bring the Tiger and Magpie–I want to know everything!”

With that she ushered Mira–who still hadn’t stopped staring–out the door and fled back to the kitchen.

Rumi stared blankly after them.

Free show? Breakfast in bed? What the…

--

“Well, that wasn’t awkward as shit or anything…” Mira grumbled as she set her tray on the kitchen counter. The breakfast food was from all their favorite restaurants because, like Mira had mentioned the night before, they didn’t know how to cook. Well, that wasn’t technically true. Breakfast gave them trouble. None of them were really morning people, so breakfast tended to be take out or something pre-packaged.

“Yeah… Hey, what was that about, Mir?” Zoey asked as she set down her tray. Something was shifting around in her head, and she wanted to gauge Mira a bit.

“Hm?” Mira was poking around one of the trays looking for something mildly edible. There was the typical Korean foods, but Zoey had added in some American stuff, too. She was scouring the pastries when something shaped like a foot appeared. What the hell was that??

“Free show?”

Mira stood up straight, a blush sneaking up her neck, disappearing into her hair. “Oh, um, just, ya know, giving Rumi a hard time. Trying to lighten the mood. That’s all.” Mira swallowed audibly and cleared her throat. Zoey didn’t look convinced, in fact she looked like she was going to ask another question, so Mira decided to cut her off, “Um, Zoey, what even is this?” she asked, holding up the pastry between two fingers like it might attack her.

“Oh!” Zoey was immediately distracted by the food, “It’s one of my favorite American pastries! It’s called a bear claw; it’s filled with almond paste and has a yummy glaze with sliced almonds on the top. It is sooo good. You’ve gotta try it!”

Mira stared at the offending pastry, chastising herself. This is what she got for trying to dodge her own discomfort. Yay… “Oh, um, okay, I guess.” But she didn’t take a bite. She just kept staring at it, like she was trying to figure out how to eat it.

Zoey leaned on the counter, watching her intently, enjoying every second. Mira didn’t mind American food, but she found some things just odd. Which apparently applied to bear claws. As Zoey watched her, she felt her heart swell. She had never really noticed how beautiful Mira was. Well, obviously, she was objectively gorgeous, but this was different. She wasn’t done up to the nines on the runway or in a photo shoot. She was in jeans and an old HUNTR/X tank top with her black ball cap on. She wasn’t trying. She was relaxed. She was comfortable in a way she never was anywhere else and in that moment Zoey realized something.

Mira was downright sexy. A

And that realization caught Zoey off guard. She straightened from her leaning position on the counter and was about to make a run for it when Rumi slipped into a stool at the bar.

Whew. Saved by the Rumi.

The girls froze as Rumi made herself comfortable, reaching for a plate and filling it with food. She noticed the sudden silence and looked up to find Mira standing stock still with some kind of gooey pastry between two fingers and Zoey staring at her.

“What? You guys invited me to breakfast,” Rumi looked from Zoey back to Mira, “Right? Or did I hallucinate that?” Rumi was starting to become self-conscious and set her plate down, planning to get up and leave when Zoey seemed to come to her senses.

“NO! No. Oh, that was loud. Sorry. No, Rumi, you didn’t hallucinate. We did invite you to breakfast. Please. Stay. We’re just a little surprised, is all.”

Mira still hadn’t moved.

“What’s up with her?” Rumi nodded at Mira.

“Oh, she’s afraid of the bear claw.” Zoey said matter-of-factly. Rumi just looked back and forth between them like they’d both lost their minds.

“Bear claw?”

“It’s the pastry she’s holding. Anyway, how are you this morning, Rumi?” Zoey moved to sit next to her at the bar.

Rumi finally pulled her eyes away from Mira long enough to reply to Zoey, “Um, tired. Really tired.” This whole morning was weird. Not that she minded them making an effort, but it was very out of the blue, and she didn’t know how to process it all. She took a deep breath and decided to dive right in. No time like the present, right?

“Look, if you guys want me to go, I’ll go. I appreciate the breakfast, but if you’re still not comfortable being around me, I’m not going to force you to be in my presence.” Rumi moved to stand and that’s when Mira seemed to remember how to be a person.

She dropped the bear claw on the tray and moved to block Rumi’s path, forcing her to sit back down. “No,” Mira said forcefully, “No Rumi. No more hiding. No more pushing us away. Stop. Just stop running, damn it.”

Rumi froze for a moment, trying to fully comprehend what had just been said to her. She slowly turned to look at Mira, her eyes flashed gold for a moment, and Mira swallowed, taking a step back.

Rumi stood back up and pushed herself into Mira’s space. “Pushing You away? Seriously?” The sad, dejected look was gone, replaced by rage. “You’re going to stand there and tell me I’ve been pushing You away? Are you fucking kidding me?”

Mira took another step back, but Rumi followed, “You two have been avoiding me and pushing me away for Months. Every time I look at you, you immediately find something else to look at. And you,” she turned to Zoey, who squeaked at the sudden attention, “You can’t even touch me. You go out of your way to avoid even the possibility of grazing my bare skin.” Back to Mira now, glaring, “Who’s pushing who away exactly?”

Mira stared at her blankly, then something snapped in her head, “Really, Rumi? You can’t see how you’ve avoided being alone with us? Talking to us? The closest we get to you is during rehearsals! The minute you walk through the door, you make a beeline for your room. You don’t even stop to take off your shoes! You run away every single chance you get. And we’re sick of it.”

Rumi sneered, “Well, imagine having the people you care about more than anything in the world avoid you every chance they get. Why don’t you try it and tell me how well you react?”

“I have! We have! I avoid looking at you because I’m scared of spooking you and you running away again!” Mira was breathing heavily, face beet red, nose to nose with Rumi, who appeared to be snarling. If she wasn’t so pissed, it would be kind of hot.

Just as Rumi was about to spout off again, Zoey made her way over and pushed between them. She pressed her palm against Mira’s sternum forcing her to look down at her; a silent conversation was had, resulting in Mira taking a breath and relaxing her posture. Zoey turned to Rumi, whose eyes were fully golden and cat-like, her breathing coming in ragged gasps as her patterns flashed harshly against her neck. Her eyes still fixed on Mira, who had folded her arms across her chest and tried to look as unbothered as possible.

“Rumi,” Zoey whispered, trying to get her to look at her, “Rumi, jagiya, look at me.”

Rumi snarled low in her throat and finally cut her eyes away from Mira long enough to notice the tears in Zoey’s eyes. The look on the younger woman was enough to break her rage.

Zoey slowly raised her hand right in front of Rumi’s sternum, the same way she had with Mira. She waited to make sure Rumi was watching her, and slowly pressed her palm into Rumi’s chest, offering gentle, firm pressure. Rumi’s breathing seemed to slow and deepen. She blinked a few times and when she looked back to Zoey, her eyes had returned to their new normal of brown and amber.

“Rumi, we just want to talk,” Zoey’s voice, barely above a whisper, was almost pleading with her, “We miss you. We need you. Talk to us. Please.”

Rumi clenched her jaw and sighed heavily. She pushed away from Zoey and made her way over to their blessed couch. She slumped down in her usual spot and waited. When neither of them joined her, she looked over and said, “Well? You coming?”

They both seemed to snap out of it and scurried over to their own spots. But now that they were together, they didn’t seem to know where to start.

“Look, I’m here, but if it’s just gonna be more awkward silence, I’m out.” She made to stand up, but Zoey gently pressed down on her leg, keeping her in place. She looked from Zoey’s hand to her face questioning. “What, Zoey?”

Zoey took a shuddering breath and looked over at Mira, who just shrugged noncommittally, looking away like she was bored. She was trying really hard at the nonchalance, and it was pissing Rumi off. Rumi growled under her breath, but before she could spout off again, Zoey interrupted her.

“We know it’s been hard the last few months. Things have gotten weird between all of us, and I think it’s because we never really talked about everything, ya know? We didn’t hash it out. We just kind of pushed through and pretended we were all okay, but we’re not okay and we need to fix it,” she took another deep breath before continuing, looking back and forth between them, “I love you guys. I can’t lose you. You mean the world to me. Please just tell me whatever it is that I need to do to fix this. I cannot lose you.”

Rumi watched Zoey’s lip tremble as she fought back tears. She gently reached out and hesitantly cupped her cheek, wiping them away. Zoey leaned into the touch, eyes still on Rumi; deliberately not avoiding her touch and making sure the message was clear, I’m here.

Rumi swallowed hard, “What do you want me to say, Zo?”

“Whatever you want. We know we never talked about the Idol Awards, and I think we need to. You have the right to say whatever you need to. A lot happened that we still don’t know, and I want you to have the opportunity to yell, scream, cry, whatever. Just, don’t shut us out again. Please? Also, I really need to know about the Tiger and Magpie.” That was a little bit more Zoey and it made Rumi crack a little smile. When she did, Zoey caught a glimpse of what looked like the tip of a fang. Interesting.

“Well, let’s start with the least traumatic thing: Derpy and Sussie,” When she said their names, they phased through the wall connecting her room with the living room. Their sudden appearance made Mira and Zoey jump out of their seats, each ending up with their weapons in hand. Rumi sighed and rolled her eyes. “Guys, they’re not demons. Chill.” Rumi gestured for Derpy to make his way over to her. He clambered onto the couch and plopped right down on her lap. She let out a loud “oof” and then smiled warmly, rubbing his head as he started to purr while Sussie perched on her shoulder. Sussie looked at Mira with slanted eyes and squawked menacingly. The girls just watched this unfold and glanced at each other in confusion.

“What are they?” “Derpy?” Zoey and Mira asked simultaneously.

“Yeah, can’t you see it?” The girls gazed at the tiger and then smiled, yeah, they saw it.

“Anyway, they’re spirit animals. I think. They’re from the demon world but aren’t actually demons. They were,” she paused for a moment, taking a breath and bracing for their reaction because she knew they wouldn’t like this one, “they were Jinu’s.”

“JINU?!”

Rumi sighed, “Yes, now do you want to know the story or are you just gonna wig out?”

Mira and Zoey looked incredulous but nodded and retook their seats. Rumi told them about the first time Sussie had appeared to her and everything that followed, including her meetings with Jinu, their song, and their plan. She didn’t go into how it went wrong. That could wait.

Mira and Zoey sat perfectly still, listening intently. Mira’s frown deepened while Zoey looked downright fascinated.

“Ever since the Idol Awards, they just, I dunno, they appear to me when I need them. They’re not always here, they just seem to know when I’m not good. Which, to be fair, has been pretty often lately,” Rumi finished, shrinking into herself and cuddling Derpy tightly.

“Well, I for one am really glad you haven’t been completely alone this whole time,” Zoey started, but Mira interrupted, “Wait a minute.” Both girls turned to face her. She sat up abruptly, leaning into Rumi’s space, looking like she was about to spit flames.

“Wait a damn minute. The night I came to your room, when you were messing with the Takedown lyrics,” Rumi realized where this was heading and she slumped against the couch, “You Promised you weren’t hiding anything from me. But you were. They were there, weren’t they?”

To her credit, Rumi looked abashed and sighed, “Yeah. They were.”

Mira sat back and glared daggers at her, “So, what else are you lying about?”

Zoey gasped, “Mira! That’s not what we’re trying to accomplish here. Let her speak.”

But Mira wouldn’t let it go, “No, Zoey. You two know literally everything about me. I have never opened up to anyone the way I have you guys and here we are with one of us completely hiding and lying. For Years. I kinda get hiding the patterns. That makes sense with who we are and what we do, but she was hiding things that didn’t need to be hidden. And as much as I want to figure this out and get past it, I have a Seriously hard time with liars.”

Rumi looked like she’d been slapped, but unlike earlier this didn’t make her angry, she was just sad. “I know, Mir. I understand. Once I had to hide one part of me, it just seemed like everything else needed to be hidden too, just in case. What if,” she took a steadying breath, “what if you found out about everything, all the parts of me I kept hidden, and you hated them? I knew what would happen if you knew about my patterns and I was right, wasn’t I? But what about the rest of me? What if you hated that, too? Do you have any idea what that would’ve done to me? What it’s still doing to me?”

Mira couldn’t make eye contact with her and didn’t say anything, but Zoey scootched closer to Rumi, resting a hand gently on her leg, “Rumi? What is it doing to you? What’s going on?”

“Nightmares. I have nightmares. Every night. Of the Idol Awards. Of you. Of me. Jinu. Celine,” Rumi scrubbed her eyes and looked up, “it wasn’t just you who turned on me.”

Zoey and Mira looked at one another in confusion, this was the first time they’d heard anything about Celine from that night. They had thought it was a little odd that they hadn’t heard from her in a while, but they’d been busy, and Bobby was their full-time manager now, not her.

Mira cleared her throat and managed to ask, “What about Celine? What happened with her? Does she know about the patterns?”

Rumi sighed again, “Yeah, I’ve had them since I was born. My dad was a demon. I still don’t know how my mom died or what happened to my dad. Anyway, Celine raised me to keep the patterns hidden, to never show anyone,” Rumi dropped her gaze as she did her best to recount the events with as little affect as possible, “After I left the Idol Awards, after I ran from you, I made my way to Celine. I begged her to do what she should’ve done a long time ago, before I destroyed everything I had sworn to protect. But she wouldn’t…”

Mira and Zoey were dumbfounded. Neither would have guessed that her father was a demon, that was absolutely unexpected. But that last part made them sit up straighter and glance at one another. Mira hesitantly asked, “Wait, Rumi, you didn’t… you didn’t ask her to kill you, did you?”

Rumi’s silence was answer enough. Her eyes were downcast, and she just kept petting Derpy’s head, refusing to meet their eyes.

Zoey launched herself at Rumi, catching her completely off guard with a loud oof. Sussie squawked indignantly and flapped away to perch near a window.

Zoey wrapped herself around Rumi like a koala and cried into her neck, “Oh Rumi, no, honey, no.” Rumi held onto her just as tightly, trying not to break down. Zoey pulled back, cupping one of Rumi’s cheeks, trying to get her to meet her eyes, “I’m so, so sorry we made you feel like that was the only answer.”

Rumi didn’t look up when she said, “Everyone I loved had turned on me. I’m just another demon that doesn’t deserve to live, right?” She shrugged, “What was left?”

Zoey and Mira froze, glancing at one another. They had really done a number on her. Zoey nodded at Mira, trying to get her to come to them. Mira shook her head vigorously, so Zoey glared and thrust her chin at her aggressively. Mira sighed and made her way over to them, shooing Derpy off the couch and sitting on the opposite side of Rumi. Zoey glared at her when she just sat there. Mira huffed and leaned in to hug them. She may have been pissed and seething, but she did love them, and she really did need to be close. Even if she wouldn’t admit to it. Like ever.

Mira decided to give in, for now at least. This wasn’t being productive, even though she was still angry. “I’m sorry, Rumi,” Rumi looked up at her with tears stinging her eyes, “You are so much more than your patterns.”

Rumi squeezed her eyes shut tightly, letting the tears run freely. She clung to them for dear life, earth-shattering sobs racking her body. They stayed like that for what felt like hours when Derpy made his way back over to them, nudging his massive head against their arms until he could get to her. The girls pulled back as he plopped his head into Rumi’s lap, nuzzling and purring. She rubbed behind his ears gently, pressing her forehead to his. Zoey and Mira looked at each other and had yet another silent conversation. Mira sighed and rolled her eyes again.

“Do we need to like, get a cat box or something?” Mira asked flatly.

Rumi burst out laughing and pulled her girls back in for another, less snotty hug.

Chapter Text

*Years Earlier - Training Grounds*

There were so many times she wanted to tell them. All the way back to the first day they met:

When the large black SUV pulled up to the garden entrance, Rumi could feel her pulse quicken and her heart leap into her throat. Okay, Rumi. Take a deep breath. This’ll be good. This’ll be great.

Celine, ever the paragon of serenity, looked entirely unfazed by the whole thing. After all, she had already done this once, with her own girls. Rumi on the other hand was desperately trying not to have a mental breakdown. The stress of meeting them was making her patterns flare and she rubbed at her shoulder.

“Stop that.” Celine swatted at her hand before the door to the SUV swung open and a short, black-haired ball of energy bounced out, already rambling about how beautiful the seonangdang was and the different colors of each banner.

Strolling along behind her was a tall, pink-haired girl who seemed utterly disinterested. Hands in pockets, gold-rimmed glasses perched on her nose, black jeans with chains; Rumi was in awe of her confidence.

Rumi knew who they were, of course. Zoey was the black-haired girl and Mira the pink. She had started watching their online content once she and Celine discovered the link between them and the Honmoon. The Honmoon chose each of them before they were even born, so they each felt each other through that connection, but it took a while for Celine to track them down in the physical world.

For as long as she could remember, Rumi could feel the Honmoon. It was her constant companion and only friend for many years.

Celine did her best as a surrogate mother, but she had always had a problem with the patterns. When it was just the two of them, Rumi would try to wear tank tops or sleeveless shirts, but Celine would immediately grimace and tell her to cover up. As if she couldn’t bear to see her blemished flesh.

When she was little, Rumi would tell her whenever they spread, but Celine would just purse her lips and get cross.

“Our faults and fears must never be seen, Rumi. No one can know. Once the Honmoon is sealed, everything will be perfect. And you will be healed.”

The morning before the girls arrived, Rumi broached the topic once more:

“But, what about my girls? I can tell them, right?”

“No, Rumi. They can’t know.” Celine didn’t even bother looking up from her laptop.

“But…” Rumi muttered as she stirred her cereal.

“Rumi, we are done talking about this.” Steady as always, her words were short and clipped. Celine was being pushed to her limit with this conversation.

“But I think they’d understand if…”

“No.”

“Oh, come on, Celine, it’ll be fine!” She tried for upbeat and nonchalant. It did not work.

“Rumi. Enough.” Celine slammed her laptop shut and finally looked at her. “You can never tell them! Ever. They will be Hunters. They will kill you.”

Not really the kind of conversation one should have with a child, but Celine wasn’t exactly a parenting expert.

So, at 14 years old, she was standing in front of her girls knowing she would have to spend her life with them lying, right from the start.

No wonder her shoulder was burning.

She did her best to stand up straight and wait for them to approach. Keeping her composure and hiding the nervousness sent a spike down her back. She could feel a new pattern flare beneath her skin, sharp and hot, right as Zoey came to a halt in front of her.

A quick bow then a tackling hug, “Hi! I’m Zoey!” Rumi immediately tensed and felt the air squeezed out of her lungs. Behind her, Mira chuckled, “Zoey, let her breathe.” She glanced at Rumi over her glasses then bowed as Zoey released her.

Celine cleared her throat, “Hello girls. Let’s get you two settled, shall we?”

Rumi followed behind quietly as they made their way up to the house. She would later, much, much later, realize that the thread of pain that had shot between her shoulder blades had momentarily eased with Zoey’s hug.

--

Remarkably, Zoey and Mira took Celine’s introduction fairly well. Plenty of questions, but they had always felt the Honmoon and, by extension, each other for as long as they could remember.

“Yeah, I never really understood what it was, but I could always feel something pulling me in one direction or the other.” Zoey reached down and grazed her fingers along the table in front of them, igniting the Honmoon. She drew her hand up and played with the threads she’d pulled from it, causing Mira and Rumi to gasp.

“How’d you do that?!” They asked simultaneously. Sitting forward in deep interest.

“What? Like it’s hard?” She smirked down at her hands, then looked up faltering, “Wait, you guys can’t do this?” Zoey was weaving the strings in front of her into intricate knots, then pulling on a single thread to unravel it completely.

“NO!” Mira’s brow furrowed in frustration as she folded her arms across her chest and scowled. At their looks of astonishment, Zoey dropped the thread, allowing it to fade back into the Honmoon, which hummed quietly just beneath the surface.

“I mean I can feel it, but I haven’t been able to pull on it like that. How’d you do that?” Rumi was excited and scooted closer to Zoey on the couch. She’d only ever had Celine to talk to about the Honmoon, she was thrilled.

“I dunno. I’ve been able to do it for years. It feels almost like strumming a guitar. Here, let me show you…” Zoey reached out to take Rumi’s hand.

Sensing it was time to make her exit and allow the girls to get better acquainted, Celine stood and began, “Well girls, I think that’s enough for one day.” They all stopped and looked to her, “We start training tomorrow. You will train in Taekwondo, Hapkido, Kumdo, and other arts. Eventually, we will move onto different weapons and complex fighting styles. In addition to the physical side, we will form you into a trio and master your musical skills as well. This journey will define your life together. You were born for this, each of you bring your own talent and identity to the group. Which is important. But enough of that for now. Get some rest. Tomorrow is an early day.” The girls scrambled to their feet to bow and say good night as she exited the living room.

Zoey’s eyes got wide, while Mira just rolled hers. Rumi was so happy to just not be alone anymore.

--

Mira was frustrated. Which was typical. Zoey and Rumi just got it. Rumi’d grown up immersed in the Honmoon, Zoey could pull the threads to her like it was nothing, and Mira could just barely adjust her sight to it. She could feel it. She knew it was there. But allowing her walls to drop so the magical barrier could have complete access to her? Yeah, no. That was not easy. And she wasn’t even sure she wanted to; those walls kept her safe.

She dropped her hands to her sides and stormed off into the garden. Zoey looked crestfallen, “I’m sorry, Mira. I was just trying to help…” her eyes began to water, and she turned to head back into the house.

Rumi stood frozen, not sure what to do. She had never been around girls her age. She had no idea how to deal with this or how to help them. She took one step toward Mira but faltered, turning back. Celine caught her eye as she hugged Zoey and dipped her head in Mira’s direction. Go, I’ve got this. Rumi nodded curtly and followed Mira.

Rumi stepped up next to her, shoulder to shoulder, almost touching, but didn’t say anything. She waited. Rumi was good at waiting. She had waited for them for as long as she could remember, she could wait for Mira to let her in.

Mira was silently fuming, staring at the seonangdang. She still had so many questions, and so many fears. What if she couldn’t do this? What if they rejected her, too? She couldn’t take another family abandoning her.

“Are you sure?” Mira asked sharply, Rumi looked at her curiously. “About me. About us. Am I really part of this?”

Rumi cracked a half smile and said, “Of course I am. The Honmoon chose you. It knew exactly what it was doing.” She bumped her shoulder against Mira’s, “You’re stuck with us now.” Mira’s heart fluttered a little at that. Rumi seemed so sure, so confident, right off the bat. They didn’t even know each other yet.

Mira sighed heavily, “But what if I can’t do it?”

Rumi chuckled, making Mira scowl. Right as she was about to snap back, Rumi said, “Mira, I’ve been surrounded by the Honmoon since the day I was born. I have never been able to do what Zoey can do. Celine taught me some things, but she always thought it was best to wait until we were all together. That way we can train and learn as one. All the mistakes, all the wounds, everything. We do this together.” Rumi paused, like she wanted to say something, but instead she shook her head and reached out her hand for Mira to take, or not. “Let’s get back. I want to see what else we can do.” Mira hesitated for a moment, then took Rumi’s hand, feeling it slip into place like it was always meant to be there, and allowed Rumi to drag her back to practice.

When they returned, Celine was still comforting a whimpering Zoey. She looked up to Rumi with a Please help me look in her eyes, which made Mira chuckle. Celine excused herself as the girls made their way over and sat next to Zoey on the bench.

Zoey sniffed and looked up, “I’m -hic- I’m so-sorry, Mira. I was ju-just…”

Mira rolled her eyes but pulled the younger girl into a hug and said, “It’s okay. It’s not your fault I can’t get this. I shouldn’t have snapped. I’m sorry.”

Zoey glanced up at her, tears and snot smudging her face, “You-you’re sure?”

“Yes, Zoey. I promise.” Mira looked over at Rumi who was smirking at her out of Zoey’s line of sight. Mira just stuck her tongue out in defiance. “Can you try showing me again? I really want to get this and you’re so good at it.”

At that, Zoey sat up straighter, wiping her nose on her sleeve. “Absolutely.”

Rumi almost told them right then. How could these girls, her girls, want to hurt her? They were so kind and gentle and wonderful. Celine had to be wrong, right?

--

Their first hunt was… messy…

They’d been training together for a little over a year, and they felt confident. They begged Celine to let them join her. She knew it wouldn’t go well, but they had been training nonstop. Their harmony still needed work, but a fight was a good place to test their mettle.

“Alright girls. Are you ready? This will not be like the training room or the studio. Here you will have to combine all of your skills. Since we have yet to work on armed combat, you will be fighting hand-to-hand. That’s up close and personal. Nowhere to hide.”

“Yes, Celine.” They said with gusto, grinning at one another.

“Do not get overly confident. A cocky hunter is a dead hunter.” Celine snapped at them.

They bowed their heads, scolded, and acquiesced, “Yes, Celine.”

Celine only nodded, then reached over her shoulders into the Honmoon, materializing her weapons of choice: ssangdo, twin, double edged swords. The girls watched in awe as the blades appeared: one pink, one blue. The light from the blades glinted across Celine’s face as she grinned at the girls, “Let’s see what you’ve got.”

At that, she leapt onto the roof of a nearby house, not waiting for them to follow. The girls glanced at each other, then focused on the Honmoon, pushing into it to propel themselves up to follow Celine. It worked but lacked… grace. Rumi slipped on a couple of tiles before finding her footing and Zoey got her t-shirt caught on one of the gables. Mira was the only one who didn’t look like a newborn deer up there, landing elegantly next to Celine, who smiled at her with pride.

Without another word Celine took off across the rooftops, racing toward the fracture they had all sensed during dinner. The Honmoon pulsed angrily in the center of town near a fountain. Celine assumed they would be facing water demons, which shouldn’t have been too difficult for the girls, even with their limited training. She underestimated the effect new hunters would have on the demons. And the targets she had just painted on them.

As she landed deftly in the town square, a single figure hovered over the fountain, not even disturbing the water. Its long hair dripped down its body, face shadowed by a large gat. Celine took in her surroundings, the girls landing next to her with slightly more grace than before. Rumi scanned the area and, upon seeing only one demon, smirked and leapt at it without waiting for Celine’s signal.

Celine cursed under her breath. Mira and Zoey gasped and lunged forward to assist, but Celine cut them off with a glare. Rumi never made it to the demon. As she attempted the attack, the demon raised its hands causing the air around it to shimmer. More demons had emerged from the fountain. And from the alleyways. And over the roofs. And then, leapt at her. Her smug look vanished and she stumbled backwards. Celine dove in front of her, flinging one sang-geom in an arc around the fountain, slicing through several of the demons like a boomerang. Rumi shook herself and fell back into a fighting stance, immediately feeling her girls at her back. She cursed her arrogance, knowing they could only do this as a team. She took a deep breath and centered herself, feeling Zoey to her left and Mira to her right. Breathing as one, the Honmoon shimmered around them and Zoey picked up the first note of a song they had been practicing together. Destiny Child’s Survivor:

“Soul survivor, yo

But this the Azza…

As she finished her verse, they saw the Honmoon react to the song and the demons shuddered. Emboldened, Mira picked up the next verse and swung at the closest demon, feeling her fist squelch against water-logged flesh:

“Now that you're out of my life, I'm so much better

You thought that I'd be weak without you, but I'm stronger…

Rumi began fighting when they started singing, then took the next verse:

“I'm a survivor

I'm not gon' give up

I'm not gon' stop

I'm gon' work harder

I'm a survivor

I'm gonna make it

I will survive

Keep on survivin'”

As their song collided with the demons, the Honmoon rippled. The girls felt it strengthen their muscles, decrease their reaction time, sharpen their senses. They pushed deeper into the square, taking demon after demon, seeming not to tire. Not knowing that was what the central demon was waiting for; reckless, cocky child-hunters diving deeper into the fray.

The demon raised its head minutely, showing the slightest hint of a fanged smirk. Celine saw the strike before Rumi did, but she was too late. The demon lunged forward, diving at Rumi’s back, claws outstretched, appearing to float on the air. Rumi turned at the sound of Celine’s scream:

“RUMI!!”

She spun to throw a roundhouse kick, but the demon caught her leg in its wickedly sharp claws. It sunk them into her and she screamed. She tried to pull away, but the demon was having none of it. It dug its claws in deeper and dug a path up Rumi’s body, pulling her closer. Face to face, Rumi could smell the stench of rotten pond water on its breath as it whispered, “They’ll never accept you. One day, you will be one of us. And they will end you, little hunter.” Rumi froze. And that’s what the demon was waiting for.

Rumi’s scream reverberated off the cobblestones and tiled roofs. The Honmoon flickered in time to her agony. Celine lunged at the demon, slicing its head clean off its shoulder with two simultaneous strikes. Rumi crashed to the ground, Mira and Zoey surrounding her protectively.

“Get her out of here! Now!” Celine screamed as she turned to face the rest of the demons with fierce determination. She rolled her shoulders and readjusted her grip on her sang-geom. “Go! I’ll follow.”

Zoey and Mira didn’t wait to see what happened next, but if the reverberations of the Honmoon were any indication, she was dispatching the horde with impunity. They each pulled one of Rumi’s arms over their shoulders, forcing a pained groan from her ashen lips, and ran as fast as they could back to the safety of the garden. Rumi had passed out at some point between the square and the house, forcing the girls to carry her whole weight between them, but they managed to get her there safely. They gently laid her down on the porch.

Zoey took a shuddering breath and glanced down at her hands, realizing how covered they were: blood, gore, dirt, pond scum. Filthy. But the blood made her breath catch. The deep crimson overshadowed everything else as it dripped onto the wooden slats of the porch. She staggered away from them, shaking, “…M-Mira…?”

Mira glanced up from her position next to Rumi, trying to staunch the bleeding from her shredded shoulders. Zoey looked terrified. She was only 15. This was… a lot. Mira looked back at Rumi, decided she was stable enough for a moment and stood up, opening her arms for Zoey to fall into. Zoey didn’t hesitate. She crashed into Mira like a ton of bricks. Mira protectively wrapped the younger girl in her strong embrace. “I’ve got you, jagiya. She’ll be okay. We’ll be okay. Are you hurt?”

Zoey pulled back enough for Mira to see three long gashes reaching from her left ear down to her right collarbone. Mira sucked in a breath. “Oh, Zoey, as soon as we take care of Rumi, it’s your turn. Promise.” Zoey just nodded in response. “Okay, let’s get her inside. She needs those wounds tended to.”

Mira slowly wrapped one arm under Rumi’s back, the other under her legs and hefted her as gently as she could, causing her to whimper. Zoey opened the doors and they made their way to the infirmary at the back of the house. Mira started to strain when they finally made it to one of the infirmary’s private rooms. She lowered her as gently and slowly as she could to the pristine hospital bed, but the adrenaline was gone, fatigue taking its place. Rumi hissed in her sleep as the clean linen pressed into her sliced back. Mira looked at her with anguish.

“Mira, I,” Zoey stuttered from several feet away, “I don’t think I can do this. Just… just look at her… how can we…” She trailed off, backing away. She stumbled into a rolling tray of instruments and jumped, tears starting. Eyes wide, she stared at Rumi’s ruined hoodie, the blood had lessened, but the light lavender had turned into a deep eggplant. Her breathing was becoming ragged, her heart pounding. Mira walked over to her and hugged her again, tucking her head under her chin. “I know, Zo. I know. This is insane. I dunno about everything else, but she needs us right now. Let’s take care of her and then we can talk, hm?” Zoey nodded against her chest as Mira stroked her back soothingly.

“Mira, I’m scared…” Zoey whimpered into her shoulder.

Mira’s brow furrowed and she frowned. She was scared, too. Terrified even. But she couldn’t show that to Zoey. She had to be strong. “I know Zo. I’m not exactly thrilled with how tonight played out either, but we will get through this. I promise.”

They were just about to remove Rumi’s hoodie to clean her wounds when Celine came barreling

through the infirmary door, covered in pond scum and demon ash.

“How is she?” Her tone clipped, but not unkind.

“The bleeding has slowed.” Mira released Zoey and made her way back to the bed, “We were just about to take her hoodie off to clean the wounds...”

“I’ve got it.” Celine turned to look at them both, noticing their own injuries for the first time and softened, “Take care of yourselves. I’ll meet you in the kitchen once I’m done.”

The girls glanced at one another, not liking the idea of being separated from Rumi.

“I promise she will be okay. I will take care of her. She will be up and training again in no time.” She nodded towards the door leading to another private infirmary room. “Go. I’ve got her.”

As they made their way to the other room, they could barely make out a sob that escaped Celine’s lips, “Oh Rumi, what have you done?”

The girls glanced at one another but kept going. Mira made Zoey sit on the bed so she could clean her up. She was rummaging through drawers and cabinets, gathering the tools she would need to take care of Zoey’s gashes. She settled on a stool in front of her, gently grasped her chin, pushing her face to the right. The gashes weren’t deep, so they didn’t need stitches, but they still needed to be cleaned properly.

“Hold still, Zo, this is gonna sting a bit.” Mira took the antiseptic and cleaned the blood and demon ash off her face and neck. She flinched away immediately, “I know, jagiya, I’ve got you,” Mira whispered kindly. In the beginning, the idea that she would come to care about these two girls so deeply seemed absolutely absurd. But now? The very thought of either of them being hurt, emotionally or physically, crushed her. She made sure to keep her stoic mask in place, though. You know, for posterity.

After she finished cleaning the gashes, she layered some bacitracin over them, then bandaged them carefully. “There, good as new.” She let her hand fall from Zoey’s chin, and they just stared at each other for a moment. Mira was about to say something when Zoey noticed a red patch on her stomach. “Um, Mira?”

“Hmm?” Mira moved to start cleaning up her supplies when Zoey pointed at her belly.

“I think you need some help, too.”

She looked down and gulped, “Oh, well, I guess I just,” she gingerly touched it and hissed, “I was just focused on you guys.”

“C’mere. Your turn.” They switched places and it was Zoey’s turn to test her healing skills.

They sat in silence as Zoey worked, gently peeling off Mira’s oversized sweater and tank top. The cut wasn’t long, but it was deep. Luckily, some of the very first lessons Celine taught them were basic first aid, combat lifesaving, and even basic triage. This was hardly the first time they needed to put those skills to the test, but it was definitely the most difficult. These weren’t bruised knuckles and sprained ankles. These were caused by real actual demons.

“Thank you,” Zoey whispered as she threaded the needle to begin stitching Mira’s wound.

Mira was laying on the bed, arm propped above her head to give Zoey room to work and trying not to pay attention to the pain, “For what?”

“Staying so calm. Taking such good care of us.”

Mira blushed, then mentally shook it off. With a smirk she said “Yeah well, someone has to keep you two alive. I’ve got you, kkomaengi.”

Zoey cracked a half smile, “Yeah…” she paused, smile fading, “Do you think she’s gonna be okay?”

Mira looked back up at her, thinking for a moment. She decided to smooth this over, she didn’t want to make Zoey cry again, “Yeah, of course. Celine won’t let anything happen to her.”

Zoey nodded and finished her work. Once they had everything cleaned up, they made their way to the kitchen and waited for Celine to return. It seemed to take forever. They made some tea and set out some snacks, but they just weren’t interested in the food. They were worried about Rumi. Desperately worried. They may have only been together for a little over a year, but in that time they had become a unit. They were learning each other, learning from each other. Which was the reason Celine had them join up young; the longer they were together, the better a fighting force they would become.

Mira stared at her tea, wondering how Rumi was doing and was just about to head back to the infirmary when Celine pushed through the door. She slid into one of the chairs as Zoey pushed a cup of tea her way. “Thank you, Zoey.” She sipped it slowly, allowing it to saturate her bones. She knew she shouldn’t have let them join her just yet. How could she be so stupid? Rumi could’ve died. The others could’ve died. No, she wouldn’t send them back into the field until they had trained with weapons. Period.

“Celine?” Zoey whispered.

Celine cracked her tired eyes and focused on the two young ladies in front of her. The next generation of Hunters. She couldn’t show weakness in front of them, so she sat up, straightened her back, and smiled. “She will be fine, girls. I cleaned her wounds, stitched her up, and gave her something for the pain that will have her sleeping through the next day. You know the magic from the Honmoon speeds up our healing. She should be fine within a week or two.”

The weight on Mira’s chest seemed to immediately lift, like she could breathe again. Zoey smiled for the first time in what felt like hours. “Really? She’s gonna be okay?”

Celine smiled softly, “Yes, Zoey. Most of her injuries avoided major areas. Her shoulders, upper back, and legs got the worst of it. She did need a lot of stitches, but I took care of it. I’ve been doing this for a very long time, ladies, I am no stranger to bad fights and infirmary stays.”

Mira watched quietly, wanting to ask, but afraid to do so. Zoey caught her eye and cocked her head, like she knew something was up. Mira sighed and asked, “Celine, what if,” she looked up from her teacup and cleared her throat, “what if we don’t want to do this? Zoey and me. What if it’s too much for us?”

Celine waited so long to answer, Mira almost repeated herself. When she finally spoke, it was in a measured and precise tone, “You may choose to leave at any time. That is your right. However, your connection to the other girls and the Honmoon will always be intact. You will always be able to feel them; good, bad, worse,” her eyes dipped back to her teacup and she clenched her jaw, “You will always be a target for demons. Once they know there is a new generation of Hunters, which you are now even if you leave, they will never stop trying to kill you.”

They stared at her, unsure what to say. She continued with a heavy sigh, “I know it’s a lot. I know I have dragged you away from your homes, your families and asked you to become child soldiers taking on a millennia-long battle between good and evil. You’re right. It is too much. I am asking you to grow up as warriors and pop stars. I am asking you to grow up now. These are big, difficult, adult conversations and issues. I know what it feels like. I went through the same thing at your age. So, to answer your question, it is your choice to stay or go. But there will be devasting and far-reaching consequences if you leave.” Celine met Mira’s gaze and said, “It is absolutely too much. But I must ask you to stay.”

They sat in silence for a long time after that. Tea gone cold, snacks forgotten. Zoey sat hunched forward, like the weight of it all was going to crush her. Mira was used to high expectations. Her family had always treated her like this. Nothing less than perfection was acceptable. They were all too happy to let Celine take over guardianship when she approached them about her budding music career. In hindsight, what an absolutely fucked thing to do.

Zoey’s parents were divorced. Her mom lived in Seoul and her dad lived in Burbank, CA, USA. So, getting their consent was a little trickier. Celine sold the idea of a summer camp to form them into a pop trio. When the summer came to an end, Zoey begged her parents to let her stay through the school year. It took some finessing, but they hadn’t seen her that happy since before they had split. Once they realized that, they conceded quickly.

“To be honest, I was torn about when to contact you.”

Mira sat forward, “What do you mean? I thought you couldn’t find us until last year?”

“Well, Rumi has been able to sense you for as long as she can remember. With her connection to you, I could’ve attempted much earlier than I did. But I didn’t want to put you through what my mentor did to me and my girls. We were each collected before we were ten years old. We continued our education and lived with our families, but spent every other waking minute here, training. My mentor advertised it as a special academy for Academically And Theatrically Talented Young Ladies. Our parents ate that up. Each of our families ended up moving into town just to make it that much easier.” She chuckled sardonically to herself, lost in memory.

“Anyway, ten is awfully young to fall into this world. Mi-yeong, Sujin, and I didn’t enjoy our childhoods. I didn’t want to do that with you girls. All of this is incredibly hard, especially starting martials arts so much later, but I think letting you be kids was just as important as your training. Besides,” she leaned back in her chair and shrugged, “I’ve handled the demons just fine on my own.”

Mira mulled this over and had to agree; ten would’ve been way too early, but in her case it may have been a godsend. Either way, she and Zoey had a lot to think about. They looked at one another across the table, another silent conversation. “Thank you. For listening to us and being honest.”

Celine nodded and looked as if she was about to say something else, but Mira cut in before she got the chance, “I think I’m gonna go sit with Rumi, in case she wakes up. I don’t want her to think she’s alone.”

“Yeah, I’m beat. I’m gonna crash,” Zoey started then turned to Mira, “Wake me when you get tired? So, I can sit with her?”

“You bet, Zo.” The girls stood and bowed to Celine as they made their exit. She continued staring into her tea, thinking about her own girls. Wondering what Sujin was up to, then pushing it out of her mind. No time for that now, these girls needed her. And she would be damned if she let another night like this ever happen again.

Chapter Text

*Years Earlier - The Infirmary*

Mira and Zoey alternated staying with their injured teammate. They refused to train or even leave the house. Their priority was taking care of Rumi. A day and a half after the fight, Mira was sitting diligently at Rumi’s beside, flipping through a magazine when Rumi began whimpering and mumbling in her sleep. She started to twitch and curled onto her side. Mira couldn’t quite make out what she was saying, but she listened, nonetheless. When she didn’t settle on her own, Mira tried whispering to her soothingly, but it didn’t help. She frowned for a moment, then decided to try something else. She started humming Brahm’s Lullaby, just the melody. As she hummed, she dabbed a warm, wet washcloth over Rumi’s forehead. Rumi whimpered and leaned into the touch. Her heart fractured. The fact that her injuries were just flesh wounds was not lost on Mira but seeing her so out of it was heart wrenching.

She turned to set the washcloth back in the basin on the bedside table. When she turned back, she saw sleepy eyes cracked open and a small, pained smile gracing ashen lips. The smile that split Mira’s face was involuntary and genuine.

“Rumi! You’re awake!” Mira gasped with joy and moved to hug her, then stopped, “Oh, sorry, I don’t want to hurt you.”

Rumi tried to sit up, but gasped and flopped back down, groaning in pain. “Ugh, I really screwed that up, huh?” Her voice was hoarse from disuse.

Mira smirked at her, “Ya think?” Rumi cocked a half smile and sighed.

“I guess we’ve still got a lot to learn.” She coughed then hissed in pain. She gave herself a mental once over, figuring out her injuries; upper back, shoulders, calves, thighs. Lovely. She was suddenly very curious as to how she’d gotten back and fixed up. Had Mira and Zoey seen? Did they know? She glanced at Mira, she seemed concerned, not angry or disgusted. No, she didn’t know. Good. That was good.

“Mira?”

“Hm?” Mira was shifting the bed into a sitting position, leaning over her to adjust the pillows. “Is that alright? Do you need anything else? I can go get Celine,” As she turned to leave, Rumi snatched her wrist, keeping her in place. Mira glanced down at Rumi’s hand, blushing slightly.

“Stay. Please.” Rumi let go of her quickly and reddened, “I can’t take her scolding me right now.” She cast her eyes down to her hands, fidgeting. “Actually, could I have some water?”

Mira smirked and rolled her eyes, “Sure, Princess. Whatever you want.” Rumi blushed as Mira went to get the water.

Mira handed over the cup and returned to her seat, shifting closer. Rumi sat in silence for a while, sipping on her water, thinking.

“What happened? How’d I get back here? Who patched me up?”

Mira took a deep breath and relayed everything from the time they dragged her out of the square to when she woke up. She took a big breath and sighed, “Zoey and I have been taking shifts. One of us is always here. Except when Celine has to change your bandages. She won’t let us do that. I dunno why. Do you?”

Rumi was listening but stuck on the meat of the story: her own arrogance. She had thought she was ready to lead them, but obviously she wasn’t. She sighed and slumped back against her pillows, “Oh, um, she just knows how private I am.”

Mira didn’t look convinced, peering over her glasses at Rumi’s hollow expression, “Hm, okay then.”

Rumi felt such shame about the fight, “I just wanted so badly to be good at this.” She sneered at herself, “I don’t know why the Honmoon chose me. What? Just because my mom was a Hunter that automatically means that’s gonna be my life, too? That’s not fair. And, obviously, I suck at it.”

“You don’t suck at it, Rumi,” Mira rested her hand on Rumi’s arm, comfortingly, “We’ve only been training for a year. And that was obviously a trap. That main demon waited until we were right in the middle of the square to have the rest of the horde attack. They knew there were new Hunters and wanted to take us out.” Rumi looked confused and uncomfortable, “Celine talked to us a bit after she took care of you. We were going to do it, but she made us leave to take care of each other.”

“Wait. Take care of each other? What did I miss? Are you okay? Is Zoey okay? Where is she?” Rumi started to panic, trying to sit up. Mira leaned forward, resting her hand on Rumi’s again, trying to calm her.

“Hey, hey, jagiya. We’re okay. Rumi, look at me.” Rumi glanced up, “We got a little banged up, but we’ll be alright.” Rumi didn’t look assured.

“Here, look.” Mira lifted her shirt, revealing a large bandage covering the lower left side of her abdomen. “See? Good as new.”

Rumi sat up straighter and winced, “Mira! What happened?”

Mira shrugged off her concern, “I honestly don’t even remember. I was so focused on you and Zoey I didn’t even notice until Zoey pointed it out. I’m okay, honest. She is, too. She got some good-sized slashes across her face and neck, but I cleaned them. We are okay, Rumi.”

Rumi’s eyes unfocused, Mira’s voice becoming distant. The image of Mira’s bandage, the thought of Zoey’s face slashed. The memory of diving into the fray, the girls having to catch up. If she hadn’t been so cocky, so big-headed, Zoey and Mira may never have gotten hurt. They never would have had to jump into a fight they weren’t ready for if she didn’t think she could handle that demon on her own.

You’re just a demon.

That’s all you’ll ever be.

You don’t deserve to be a Hunter.

You’re supposed to take care of them.

Look what you’ve done.

She curled forward, wailing in agony as a spike of pain lanced down her sternum. She clutched her chest with both hands, pulling the stitches on her back, making herself bleed.

Mira stood so fast she knocked her chair over, “ Rumi?! Rumi, what’s wrong?” But she didn’t respond, just continued gripping her chest, each agonized howl ripped from her like teeth being pulled. Mira screamed, “CELINE! GET IN HERE! NOW!”

The doors to the infirmary burst open, “What happened?” Celine came barreling in, Zoey hot on her heels. She made her way to Rumi’s bedside, grasping her shoulders, trying to understand. Zoey went to Mira, eyes wide and scared.

“I-I don’t know. One second we were just talking about the fight, about our injuries, and the next sh-she’s screaming.” Mira was almost yelling, her composure slipping as fear got the better of her. “What’s wrong? What happened?”

“Okay. I’ll take care of her. Go on, girls.” But they didn’t move. Celine looked back up. “I said ‘I’ve got this’. Go.” Her tone broached no argument and Zoey turned to leave, but Mira refused to move.

“Let us help!” Mira started back towards the bed when another scream erupted from Rumi, “What’s going on with her?!”

“Mira this is not the time. Look at her. She’s in pain. Let me deal with this. Get out of here. Now!”

Zoey tugged on Mira’s hand, “Come on. She needs help. Let her help. Let’s go.”

Mira glared at Celine but allowed herself to be dragged out of the room. The sound of Rumi’s screams echoing behind them.

Once she felt relatively safe they wouldn’t return, Celine turned back to her charge, “Rumi, honey. What’s happening? Talk to me.”

Rumi’s only response was ripping the hospital gown off her chest, exposing the fresh, bright purple patterns radiating downward. She was panting shallowly, the panic and pain winning.

Celine froze for only a breath – just long enough for the sight to hit her.

The patterns flashed, violent and raw.

Another wail of torment was ripped from Rumi’s lungs.

Rumi’s eyes met hers, pleading.

Celine sat on the edge of the bed and wrapped her arms around her, pulling her close.

“What happened? Why are they spreading?” She whispered, attempting to sound calm.

Rumi choked back another sob and gasped, “It’s my fault. It’s all my fault. They got hurt because of me!” Another spike of purple erupted under Celine’s hands, making her jump. The sudden jolt made Rumi gasp in pain, the blood on her back spreading with each spasm.

Celine took a deep breath, steadying herself. No matter what she felt about the patterns, Rumi needed her.

“Rumi, sweetheart, look at me,” Celine shifted, trying to catch Rumi’s eyes. “Take a slow deep breath. Slow down. Focus.”

She guided Rumi through the breathing exercises they’d used since she was a child. Whenever she panicked like this, or her patterns spread, Celine walked her through the box breathing, making her ground herself in the moment. After several minutes of slow, deep breaths, she was finally able to release her iron grip on Celine enough to ease back down onto the bed.

Rumi looked up to her curiously, but Celine just shook her head and refocused.

“Let me get those cleaned up. You’ve ripped most of your back stitches out.” Rumi only nodded and leaned forward so Celine could fix her up. Again.

They sat in a silence that neither dared to break. Celine worried that if they discussed it, it would make things worse. She believed it was best to conceal it and ignore it. Rumi on the other hand just wanted to talk to her mom. But she didn’t have that luxury. She had Celine. Celine. Who had raised her. Who had tried to love her. But not all of her. Because she was defective. Broken. An evil worthless demon.

Rumi’s body seized up as another shot of pain pierced her ribs, erupting in a new purple gash. Celine halted her movements and looked down.

Pursing her lips, she sighed, “Rumi. Enough. I can’t repair your stitches if you keep losing your cool.”

She clenched her jaw and did her best to hold it together until Celine was done. Once she was, she redressed her and got her settled into bed. She was about to leave, then paused before turning back. She leaned down to give Rumi a hug, but Rumi pulled back, looking away. Celine simply nodded and left her in the silence of the infirmary.

Rumi sat motionless for a long time after she left. The spreading of her patterns had always hurt but never to that degree. She had felt shame her entire life just for existing. Knowing she was a disgrace, a mistake, a dirty half-breed? That was nothing compared to the responsibility that now rested on her shoulders.

She looked at her chest and shoulders, the fresh violet gashes obvious against the older, tamer tones. She reached a tentative hand to gently graze over one of them. The skin wasn’t painful so much as exceptionally sensitive. Her fingertips traced one of the lines from the crook of her elbow up to her collarbone. She sighed. If they were going to keep spreading and hurting that badly, she was going to have to get really comfortable with pain and find a way to not show it. She didn’t want to scare Mira and Zoey. And she couldn’t let them find out. Yay. More hiding.

Rumi leaned forward and put her head in her hands. How the hell was she supposed to do this? Celine just kept telling her to not say anything, but it’s not like she was handed a “How To Hide Your Half-Demon Self from Your Demon Hunter Besties” manual. Why the hell had the Honmoon even chosen her?

Suddenly, she felt a gentle tug in her sternum, as if someone or something was calling to her. The sensation was warm and soothing, washing over her, easing her fears and anxiety. When she opened her eyes, she saw rippling, blue sound waves crashing into and through every surface in the room, spreading into the rest of the house. The Honmoon pulsed with the sounds of old conversations and whispered songs. Rumi watched, fascinated, unable to move as the waves rippled against her. Each crest a story. Each valley a melody.

She heard the whispered prayers she sent to her mother as a child. She heard a tiny version of Mira’s voice crying before a sharp crack silenced her. She heard Zoey’s poetry followed by ridicule, her voice slipping into silence and sniffles. She watched the three of them, through the sound. She felt their story punch into her chest with each wave. She heard the first song she sang from start to finish with no mistakes. She heard Mira’s defiance and refusal to bend to her family’s will. She heard the first rap battle Zoey won. They had each suffered, one way or another. But they each had their victories, too.

Rumi rubbed the heels of her hands into her eyes, trying to kill the tears. “Okay, okay. I got it. Message received.” She flopped back onto her pillows, adjusting her shirt and blankets as the Honmoon settled and fell back into the ether.

She sat thinking as sleep tugged at her. She had truly come to care about these girls. More than just what the Honmoon had given her. She had a love for them that she couldn’t quantify. Zoey’s quirky ramblings. Mira’s softness behind the sarcasm. They were the parts of her she had never known she was missing.

In that moment she made a decision: at the end of the day, they were a team, and she had to do whatever it took to keep them safe. Even if that meant keeping her distance. And she despised it.

Chapter Text

*Years Earlier - Training Grounds*

Just as Celine had said, their injuries healed rapidly. Within four weeks of that terrible hunt, they were mostly healed and scarless. Rumi didn’t let any of her wounds slow her down. Once Celine told them they could start training again, it was all Rumi wanted to do.

They used the garden near the seonangdang to train hand-to-hand combat. Celine stood by, watching their form and giving feedback. “Good Rumi, don’t let her get inside. Use your speed to your advantage.”

Mira threw a tired punch, her guard sagging just enough to leave her flank open. Rumi fainted to the left, but when Mira tried to respond, Rumi dipped low and swept her legs out from under her. She landed hard on her back, knocking the wind out of her. She lay there, momentarily dazed, when a shadow blocked out the blazing sun for a moment, offering a hand.

“Here, let me help you up.” Mira groaned as she reached for Rumi’s hand and allowed herself to be pulled to her feet.

“Water. I need water.” Mira groaned as she limped her way to the bench Zoey was nervously sitting on, “Your turn. Good luck.” Zoey gulped down an awkward laugh and made her way to the ring.

Rumi was already bouncing on the balls of her feet again, shadowboxing–a little too keyed-up, a little too sharp.

Once she had stepped into the ring, they bowed, and the fight was on.

“Come on, Zo! Kick her ass!” Mira shouted, the cheer sounding a little too sharp beneath the joke.

Zoey glanced back and reddened – the distraction was exactly what Rumi was waiting for. She stepped in close and thrust a quick hook into Zoey’s ribs, forcing her to take a step back. Zoey immediately put her guard up, but she was already on the back foot and Rumi just kept coming. Jab, cross, hook. Jab, cross, hook. Over and over, until Zoey stepped over the line and Celine called it.

“Alright ladies. That’s enough for today… You’ve all put in a lot of work these last couple of weeks. Especially you, Rumi.” Rumi beamed like someone lit a sun in her chest. “Shower, get some rest. Dinner in an hour.”

As Celine left, Rumi slumped onto the bench next to the other two, letting her head tip back. She could feel their eyes on her.

“What?”

“A little teacher’s pet energy, dontcha think?” Mira said lightly–but the edge underneath was sharp.

“What?” Rumi sat up. “What do you mean?”

“You’ve always loved the hand-to-hand,” Zoey fidgeted with her water bottle before looking up at her, “but since the hunt, you’ve been insanely focused. And, like, I know Celine raised you and everything, but we’re a team here, Rumi. We’re not the enemy.” Zoey’s voice cracked.

Rumi sat up straighter, “I know. I know that. I just, I’m just training.”

“Well, so are we. We are supposed to be learning together, Rumi. But you’re... somewhere else. It’s like sparring with a ghost.” Mira crossed her arms and scowled.

“You want me to take it easy on you?” Rumi snapped before she could stop herself.

“Look, we’ve each got our natural skills. Pulling from the Honmoon has always come more naturally to Zoey than to either of us. I just happen to catch on to the hand-to-hand a little faster. That’s all. Don’t take it so personally, Mira.”

Rumi pushed to her feet and headed for the house before either of them could snap at her again.

Zoey sighed, quiet and aching, “What happened to her after that fight…? It’s like we don’t even know her anymore.”

Mira simmered, clenching her jaw but remained silent. Rumi had changed. Dramatically. And Mira did not like it.

--

It was late, but sleep seemed like a lost cause. Five weeks since the hunt and she was still struggling at night. With a grunt, Mira threw the blankets off and went to the kitchen for a snack and some tea. She padded softly down the hall to not wake the girls as she passed by their rooms. Zoey’s door was partly open, and she could just make out the light from her phone. She probably fell asleep watching a movie again. Mira smiled fondly and shook her head. She pushed the door open a little more and slipped into Zoey’s room. She turned off the video, put her phone on its charger, and fixed the blankets. She looked down at her tenderly, when movement outside caught her attention.

Mira cautiously made her way over to the windows and gently pulled the curtain aside to get a better look. What she found actually surprised her.

In the lantern light, Mira could just barely make out a figure. Was that Rumi? Training? At, she squinted at her watch, midnight?! With a quick glance at Zoey to make sure she was still asleep, she headed to the garden as quietly as she could. She found the front door slightly ajar slipped out without Rumi noticing. From the shadow of a large pillar, Mira watched Rumi continue training.

She had set up several different sized training tools in a circle around her. Some humanoid punching bags, some standing bags, a couple wooden dummies, and even a rotating wooden training post. Rumi would do a series of strikes on one bag, then shift to kicks on another, then back again. She was almost mechanical. Her strikes and kicks were too sharp, too fast.

Mira moved deeper into the shadows but closer to Rumi’s position, trying to remain hidden while getting a better look at what was going on.

Rumi’s punches against the wooden structures thudded hollowly and with each strike Mira could see a slight flinch flutter across Rumi’s otherwise fierce expression. Mira watched as one particularly hard punch jarred Rumi’s focus. She could just make out the sound of a hiss being sucked between teeth as Rumi hopped back, shadow boxing for a minute, shaking out her hands, before diving back in.

As she paused, Mira dragged her eyes up and down Rumi’s body. She was wearing a white mock turtleneck compression shirt with black leggings, her hair tied back into a tight bun, her usual braid gone. She noticed Rumi’s hands were wrapped tightly in white boxing wraps. Mira knew they were white, even in the darkness, because they were splotchy, as if stained with blood. This wasn’t practice. This was punishment. But why? What was she punishing herself for?

Sweat coursed down Rumi’s face, she swiped it away with her forearm. The look in her eyes somewhere between centered and savage. When she finally shifted to the spinning dummy, she took a moment. Standing in front of it, she closed her eyes and took a slow deep breath. Mira watched in amazement as Rumi pushed her hands out to her sides and summoned the Honmoon, allowing it to wrap itself around her knuckles and wrists. What was she up to?

Mira was about to step forward, to say something, anything, when Rumi’s eyes flew open and she lunged at the dummy with ferocious speed. She slapped one peg quickly, only to have another swing towards her face forcing her to dodge under it. The posts began moving faster and faster. She continued in this way for several minutes, but eventually, the boost from the Honmoon began to fade, and her strength with it.

Mira saw the strike a moment before Rumi realized what was happening. She pushed one post away and spun on her heel to block the next one coming for her ribs, only to be struck right across her cheek. She staggered back and clutched at her face as another post slammed into the other side of her torso, knocking her down.

Mira couldn’t stay hidden any longer, she stepped into the light of the garden. At her sudden appearance, Rumi’s eyes went wide. When Mira reached down to help her up, she flinched away before she could stop herself, as if expecting another hit. Mira jerked her hand away, then reached down again. Rumi slowly slipped her hand into Mira’s and accepted the help.

Once she was standing again, Rumi only nodded and moved as if to get back to the training, but Mira stepped in front of her. “Whoa there tiger. I think that’s enough for one night.”

Rumi stared at her flatly, then moved around her anyway.

“Rumi,” Mira reached out to grab her arm, but Rumi snatched it away as she turned to her, eyes wide and angry.

“I have to get back to work.” Rumi turned to a punching bag, restarting the sequence Mira had walked in on.

“No, you don’t.” Mira walked to the other side of the bag, trying to catch Rumi’s eyes.

Rumi stopped moving–just long enough to breathe.

“If I stop, I’ll think.”

Mira hesitated at that, unsure  what to say. Rumi began another round of kicks on one of the humanoid bags. Mira sighed and watched for a moment, then a thought occurred to her, “You’ve been out here all night, haven’t you?”

Rumi’s slight pause before picking up the kicks again was answer enough.

Mira crossed her arms and leaned against a pillar, “You’ll get hurt.”

A final roundhouse kick that knocked the bag over completely landed Rumi squarely in front of Mira. Her brow furrowed, her jaw clenched. Rage and fury shuddering through her muscles. She stared her down bitterly and said, “Better me than either of you.”

That took Mira aback. Guilt was eating away at Rumi and there was nothing she could do to fix it. Mira’s usual stoicism cracked slightly.

“Just, come inside,” She reached a tentative hand out to her, hopeful, “Please?”

Rumi stared at the hand, an offering, help. Unwanted. Undeserved. No.

Instead of responding, she just turned back to the bags and got back to work.

Mira’s brow furrowed in frustration and pain. Rumi wasn’t fighting demons anymore. She was fighting herself. And she was winning. Which scared Mira more than anything.

Mira simply nodded and headed back towards the house, giving in, for now. Right as she reached

the door, she turned back, “Ya know,” Rumi hesitated, but didn’t turn, “You really shouldn’t listen to the demons in your head. They’re lying. You’re not alone. We’re here for you. If you let us.”

Rumi’s shoulders slumped as Mira disappeared inside..

--

Six weeks after their first hunt, Celine decided it was time for a new tack.

She instructed the girls to meet her in a wing of the house that they hadn’t been allowed in before, even Rumi. In front of them stood large wooden doors, intricately carved with demon faces, swirls of the Honmoon, and different weapons. The girls stared in awe.

“Alright ladies. After your first hunt, it became painfully obvious that you need to start training with weapons.”

“YES!” All three of them jumped up and punched the air.

Celine chuckled, “Yes, well, please understand that just means the training is going to get a lot more difficult. And the rest of your duties are still mandatory: schoolwork, choreo, studio time, and so on. You will be exhausted, but in the end you will be better for it.”

They settled down, “Yes, Celine.”

“Each Hunter wields a unique weapon. The original Hunters weapons have been lost to time, but we know they wielded a monk’s staff, dual swords, and a horned bow. You know I prefer dual swords.” She looked to Rumi and smiled warmly, “Rumi, your mother used a geom. It is a straight, double-edged sword.” Rumi nodded reverently. “There are hundreds of weapons in this dojang. Take your time. Today is about becoming comfortable around weapons and maybe discovering what the Honmoon has in store for you.”

The girls looked at one another with unfettered glee.

“Zoey can already manipulate the Honmoon,” Zoey perked up with pride, “Once you find your weapon you will not only train with it, but you will learn to manifest it.”

“Your mastery of your chosen weapon will be expedited by the Honmoon. Once inside, you may feel pulled towards one weapon or a specific group of weapons. This is the Honmoon showing you the way, do not fight it. Allow it to guide you.” She paused, making eye contact with each girl in turn, allowing them to absorb this, “You will find that the weapon you specialize in comes more naturally than others. However, you will still need to learn how to use a variety of basic weaponry. Understanding and training with a weapon creates a level of respect not gained elsewhere."

They nodded along anxiously as Celine turned to the large double doors, withdrew a bulky, antique key, and fit it into the lock. The doors swung open as Celine stepped aside, allowing them entry.

The dojang was massive. And ancient. Vaulted ceiling, thick, wooden beams, natural sunlight cascading in from high windows, well-worn wooden floors. At the very back, directly across from the doors was an armory. It resembled an open vault with rows of swords, staffs, bows, axes, knives – everything. They stood in the entryway, nervous, but excited. Celine chuckled to herself then gave them a little shove, “Go on. This is about discovery. Take your time.”

Zoey was nervous, but so excited. She wanted to find her weapon ASAP so she could learn how to pull it from the Honmoon. She was itching for it. She made her way along a rack filled with swords. She ran her hand along them as she walked, her fingers slowly wrapping around the hilt of the last one; the label in front of it said it was a single-edged blade with a leather wrapped hilt. It was simple, little to no decoration. Utilitarian. She gently pulled it from the rack, but she didn’t consider the Zoey-to-sword ratio. As she attempted to tug it out of the rack, it snagged at the very top of the blade guard. She glared and grunted as she went up on her tiptoes, trying to yank it free. One final tug and the sword was liberated. However, she only had a single moment to relish her victory when the rest of the rack tumbled on top of her. Her eyes went wide as an avalanche of weaponry covered her.

“Uh…guys?” She squeaked from under the pile. Mira and Rumi turned at the crash and raced over to help. Luckily, all of the swords were in their scabbards, sharp edges safely hidden. They dug her out and reached down to haul her to her feet.

Rumi inspected her for damage and, finding none, she stood the rack back up and started reorganizing it. Mira on the other hand crossed her arms and looked at her with one brow arched. Zoey looked up at her and blushed. “Zo, if you can’t even pull it off the rack, I don’t think it’s calling to you…”

“Yeah, maybe try something… smaller?” Rumi offered as she absently put swords back on the rack when one began glowing gently under her fingertips. She froze. Her sudden lack of movement caught the girls’ attention and they turned to her as the faint blue light rippled up the length of the scabbard, around the hilt, then wrapped around her hand. A gentle “whoosh” washed over Rumi and pushed across the dojang, shuddering through the walls, then settling back into the Honmoon.

Rumi stood frozen, wide-eyed, staring down at the weapon in her hand. She looked up to see Celine watching her with a small, pleased smile. She nodded encouragingly.

Rumi swallowed audibly, grasping the hilt in her right hand, and slowly withdrew the sword from its scabbard. As she did, she noticed constellations engraved along the length of the blade. Some she recognized, some she didn’t. She barely noticed the weight of it as it rested effortlessly in her palm. She took a calming breath and looked up to find Zoey and Mira staring in equal parts amazement and jealousy, along with Celine, who had made her way over to them.

Celine watched with pride. Under her breath, she muttered, “Remarkable.”

Rumi flushed at the praise, so unaccustomed to it. She looked up at Celine, “What?”

Celine blinked a couple times then looked up at her, “I’ve never heard of a Hunter having that weapon.”

“Why? What’s wrong?” Rumi blanched, afraid. Almost wanting to drop it and step away.

“Nothing’s wrong, Rumi. It’s a ssaingeom or the Four-Tiger Sword. It is believed to embody pure Yang energy, making it the perfect weapon for slaying demons and cutting down evil spirits. Ssaingeom are specially crafted. They can only be forged at the precise alignment of the Year, Month, Day, and Hour of the Tiger. Which only comes once every 12 years. It is astonishing that the Honmoon pushed you towards this weapon. It’s like the Honmoon chose you to not just fight for it, but to seal it. To create the Golden Honmoon.”

All three girls turned to her at that.

“The what now?” Mira asked skeptically.

“The Golden Honmoon. I didn’t plan on teaching you two this lesson just yet, but here we are. Take a seat.” The girls got settled as Celine paced calmly in front of them. “Rumi knows all this already.”

Rumi nodded, then blushed when Mira and Zoey glanced at her, brows furrowed. Mira looked suspicious but did her best to listen without comment. Zoey looked like a kid in a candy shop; excited and ready for more.

“The Golden Honmoon is the ultimate goal.” Celine continued, “Simply fighting demons that pop up here and there isn’t enough. We are always reactive, instead of being proactive. The Golden Honmoon would solve that by sealing away the demon world for good. With your voices and your strength as a team, you could do it. The fact that the Honmoon chose you, Rumi, and chose this weapon for you? I think you three are the team to do it. You will seal the Honmoon. You will save the world.”

Celine finished her speech, staring at Rumi in awe. Rumi became uncomfortable under her gaze. She wasn’t used to so much attention.

Mira sighed, “So, no pressure then…”

Zoey giggled and Rumi finally cracked a smile. “Well, we still have a long way to go to get there. Maybe we should focus on getting them their weapons.”

Celine blinked and seemed to recenter herself, “Right. Of course. There will be time enough for all of that later. Please girls, continue.”

Zoey and Mira started working their way through the rest of the rows of weapons while Rumi became more acquainted with her ssaingeom.

Zoey continued meandering around, waiting for something to catch her eye. She moved right past the other long weapons, so no polearms, spears, axes, or swords for her, thank you very much. She picked up a bow, but when she tried to string it, it snapped out of her hand, smacking her right in the face. Rubbing her cheek and nursing her pride, she moved on. She made her way to the back of the armory, thinking she was never going to find something to suit her, when she came upon the smaller ranged weapons. Throwing knives, crossbows, slingshots, there was even a blowgun. She perked up here, thinking, “Oh, yeah, this is definitely more my speed.”

She picked up one of the throwing knives, feeling the weight in her palm. Moving to stand in front of a target, she rolled her shoulders, took a deep breath, and thought, “Why not? Let’s give this a try.” Taking up a defensive stance, she raised one knife over her right shoulder and threw it as if throwing a baseball. She watched it sail through the air, end over end, before it clanged off the target uselessly, bouncing to the floor. Her shoulders slumped and she sighed, dejected.

“Well, that’s definitely not it.” Came Mira’s voice, slightly smug, over her shoulder. Zoey turned to glare, only to find her leaning effortlessly on a long, curved polearm, smirking, thought her eyes were focused. Zoey huffed, trying to ignore her. “I’m just saying. That’s not the one.” Mira shrugged, trying to appear disinterested but continued to watch. She did that a lot in public, put on the badass-nothing-can-touch-me-I’m-not-soft thing. Zoey knew better, but it was still frustrating.

“Shut up, Mira.” Zoey whined, then stomped off to pick up the knife and place it back on the table. Just as she was about to turn away something caught her eye. At the far end was a small set of, well she wasn’t quite sure what they were; they were knives, but different somehow. They were bronze instead of steel. Each was one solid piece of bronze with the hilt twisted instead of being made of a separate material. A small ring was attached to the end with a golden tassel hanging from it. She closed her eyes tightly as she reached out a tentative hand, fingers barely brushing one of the knives. She felt a warmth radiate up her arm as she heard a sharp gasp behind her. She barely peeked open one eye, finding the knives shining with an opalescent glow. She smiled as she raised one to inspect it, then, with a crooked grin, walked back to the target line. Yet again, she raised her right hand over her shoulder, took a deep breath, and let it fly towards the target. She watched with bated breath as it flew through the air, struck, then sunk deeply into the target.

Zoey jumped up and down with obvious glee. “Woohoo!! Yeah! Take that!!” She continued bouncing around until she heard a gentle chuckle and slow clapping behind her. She turned to see Mira still watching her.

“Nicely done, kkomaengi. Nicely done.” Mira tried to look unimpressed, but she was obviously quite proud of their maknae. “Let’s go show them.”

Zoey scooped up the set of knives from the table and followed Mira. Rumi was sitting with Celine as she explained the different constellations that covered her sword. She looked up as the others approached. “What did you guys find?”

“I have a gok-do, but I’m really not sure what Zoey has.”

Zoey held up her three knives as if they were Simba from The Lion King, “Behold! My tiny, pointy Demon Openers!”

 “Zooooeeeyyyy,” Rumi groaned and put her head in her hands.

Mira rolled her eyes and sat down on the bench near Rumi, “She is so weird.”

“Those are actually shin-kal. Another one I’ve never heard of someone wielding.”

Zoey turned to Celine, worry etched into her face, “How come?”

“Well, they’re not technically weapons. Those are ceremonial, like Rumi’s ssaingeom. Neither of these was designed to be used in combat; only Mira’s is a weapon of War.” At that, Mira sat up a little straighter, squaring her shoulders. “The shin-kal were used in divination rituals and to cut away misfortune, amongst other things. How did you use it?”

Zoey winced, “Oh, um,” She glanced at Mira, who was grinning again. That damn grin. Zoey turned back to Celine timidly, as if afraid she would get in trouble, “I threw it like a throwing knife?”

“Huh,” Celine sat back in her seat, awed, “Interesting. And?”

“Oh, it stuck. Deep. She’s a natural with those things.” Mira cut in absently, while she examined her gok-do. The blush on Zoey’s cheeks spread up to her ears.

“Good. And you, Mira?”

Mira stood and wielded the gok-do like it was an extension of her body, spinning it around from one hand to the next, then slamming the polearm into the mat, causing the Honmoon to ripple beneath their feet. She stood back up, a self-satisfied smile plastered on her face, then made her way back to the bench.

“Well, it appears we have our three weapons. How do you feel?”

They looked at one another, then back to Celine, nodding in unison. “Excellent. Tomorrow, the real work begins.”

Chapter Text

*Present Day - Morning in the Penthouse*

“Tomorrow, the real work begins.”

Rumi’s eyes flew open as Celine’s words echoed through her head. She hadn’t planned on hearing that voice again for a while, so having it slip into her dreams was disconcerting. She took a deep, calming breath and tried to ground herself in the present. The pressure of Derpy against her back, the morning light cascading through her window, faint music coming from the living room, and the smell of something… delicious.

She sat up slowly, thinking about those words, “Tomorrow, the real work begins.” Those words, years before, had started the hardest training any of them had ever experienced. But now? Why were they lingering now?

Rumi blinked against the sun and followed her stomach and her nose to the kitchen. As she meandered down the hall, she smiled to herself when she heard Zoey belt out Wannabe by the Spice Girls.

Rumi lingered just out of sight for a moment, warmth and ache mixing in her chest. She used to live inside this kind of morning. Now she wasn’t sure she still belonged to it.

“I'll tell you what I want, what I really, really want
So tell me what you want, what you really, really want…”

Rumi watched from the shadows of the hallway as Zoey danced over to the stove, shoving a pretend microphone at Mira. “Take it away, Mira!” Mira tried, and failed, to ignore her.

Zoey poked her in the ribs, “C’mon Mira, I know you love this song.” With a sigh, Mira turned and, using her spatula, picked up where Zoey left off:

“Oh, what do you think about that?
Now you know how I feel
Say you can handle my love, are you for real?...”

Zoey beamed, then continued the rest of the song, dancing around the kitchen like she’d never had a single dance lesson in her life. Mira leaned against the island, watching her with a crooked grin and crossed arms.

"Zoey, I'm trying to cook here. You asked for this, let me finish."

Zoey pouted, “You can still cook while I serenade you.”

Mira snorted, “You can serenade me any time you want, but I don’t want to burn anything. Gimme a minute.”

Zoey sighed, “Okay, fine…”

“Go check on Rumi. See if she wants to join us.”

Zoey perked up, “Oooh, great idea!”

Rumi froze in the hallway, not sure whether to enter or retreat. As Zoey skipped over to her, she felt a little sheepish, being caught eavesdropping.

“Hey, Rums! I was just about to come get you. Mira’s cooking!” Zoey paused for a moment, squinting at her, “Were you listening?”

Rumi blushed, the patterns at her temples darkening slightly, “…yeah.”

“Oh good! You can help me serenade Mira!” Zoey winked.

Rumi paused but managed to crack a small smile. “Yeah, okay. That sounds fun.”

Zoey dragged Rumi into the kitchen, gave her another wink, and dove right back into the song:

“Yo, I'll tell you what I want, what I really, really want
So tell me what you want, what you really, really want…”

Zoey danced around the island then landed right in front of Rumi, holding out her pretend microphone. Mira arched a brow at her. Rumi only shrugged and started singing along:

“If you wanna be my lover, you gotta get with my friends
(Gotta get with my friends)
Make it last forever, friendship never ends…”
 

As the verse came to an end, they both turned to Mira holding out their pretend microphones in eager anticipation. She sighed, rolled her eyes, tossed her hand towel over her shoulder then joined in, begrudgingly.

“So, here's a story from A to Z
You wanna get with me, you gotta listen carefully
We got Em in the place who likes it in your face
You got G like MC who likes it on a
Easy V doesn't come for free, she's a real lady
And as for me, ha you'll see…”

They finished the rest of the song together and ended up laughing through the last verse so hard they couldn’t even finish it properly.

Rumi flopped down onto the couch, clutching her belly. “Oh, my Gods, my abs are gonna ache for a week!”

Zoey slumped into a beanbag chair across from her, “Man, I haven’t laughed that hard in a long time!”

From the kitchen, Mira added, “You’re lucky I didn’t burn anything. But yeah, that was fun.”

Rumi and Zoey glanced at one another and burst out laughing again.

--

Mira’s cooking skills were growing rapidly. She didn’t like that when Zoey mentioned making Rumi breakfast, she couldn’t actively take part, aside from carrying a tray of random American pastries. She had decided to start cooking in earnest. And when she made up her mind about something, there was no stopping her.

“Order up!” She called to the girls from the kitchen as she set dishes of food out.

They scurried to the island, drooling. What they found was a smorgasbord of some of their favorite dishes: Zoey’s eomuk bokkeum and Rumi’s hobak jeon.

“Wow, Mira! When did you learn how to cook?!” Rumi asked, teasing.

“Hey, you know I can cook, I just don’t do it all that often. Besides, Zoey asked. The only way to stop the begging was to give in to the demands. So, here we are.” She tried to look annoyed, but it just came across as affectionate.

"Well, I'm excited. Scoot over Rumi, I'm diving in!"

Mira just chuckled to herself as she started cleaning up. “Aren’t you going to join us?” Rumi asked.

“Nah. Not hungry.” That made them both stop. Mira? Not hungry?

With a mouth full of fish cakes, Zoey tried to say, “Waz wrung, Mir?”

Rumi shook her head and translated, “What’s wrong?”

“Nothing, honest. I just…” Mira hesitated for a moment, shaking her head, “My appetite has been off for a few days, that’s all.”

Rumi and Zoey looked at one another again. Zoey had fish sauce running down her chin, but the unspoken conversation was clear.

“Try again.” Rumi said as she set down her chopsticks.

Mira sighed and moved to the stool next to her, “I don’t want to ruin your meals.” They stared at her, “Okay, fine. I’ll try to talk while you eat, deal?” They both nodded.

“I’ve been thinking a lot about our conversation yesterday and I still have a lot of questions. And I know Zoey does too,” Zoey nodded when Rumi glanced her way, “None of us are okay. Right now feels really good, we feel like us again, but… I dunno, something’s missing and I just… I don’t feel right.” She finished with her eyes downcast, looking at her hands and fidgeting with her rings.

Rumi turned to face her, “I’ll answer anything you want to ask. I’ll do my best to be an open book; I just can’t promise to be an easy read.”

Mira smiled, a real smile this time. “Sounds fair to me. Zo?”

Zoey looked up, startled, with a very large bite of kimbap half shoved in her mouth, “Uhmm, uhhuh!”

Mira and Rumi just chuckled at her. “Just finish eating. We can talk when you’re done.” With that she got back to cleaning the kitchen. When she was done she took her usual spot on the couch and sipped on a cup of tea while she waited for them to finish their meals.

With a loud burp, Zoey made her way to her spot followed closely by Rumi.

“Okay,” Rumi took a deep breath, bracing for impact, “Shoot.”

Mira looked to Zoey, who shrugged, “Zoey.”

Zoey blinked and pointed to herself, “Me? You want me to go first?”

“Well, yeah. I have a lot to say, I’m just working out how to do it without sounding like an ass. I may be blunt and aggressive, but I love you guys. I don’t want to hurt you. So for now, I’ll just listen. If that’s okay?”

Rumi frowned, but nodded, then looked to Zoey, “Alright Zo, whatcha got?”

“Okay. I have a lot of questions, but I’ll try to stick to the important ones for now. We can do the fun ones later.” Rumi looked over to Mira with a wtf, “fun ones”? look on her face. Mira just cracked a half smile and shrugged.

“So, you’ve always had the patterns?”

“Yep.”

“Since you were born?”

“Uh-huh.”

“And your dad was a demon?”

“Yes… Zoey we already went through all this…”

“I know, I’m just… trying to get to it without just diving in.”

“Damnit, Zoey. Just ask her.” Mira chimed in.

“Okay. Fine. Sheesh.” Zoey took a deep breath and turned back to face Rumi. Rumi could feel the mood shift into something much more serious. Wherever this conversation was going, she had a feeling she wasn’t going to like it.

“What’s the real reason you never told us?” Zoey winced as she finished her question.

Rumi blinked, eyes darting between them, “I told you. Celine– she-“

“No,” Mira said with some force, “Don’t use Celine as an excuse. Whatever she said to you doesn’t matter anymore. Why did you choose not to tell us?”

Rumi sat frozen. How could she explain this to them? There was a whole bundle of things she kept to herself. It was more than just her patterns. It was how she was raised. It was all the masks she wore, even with them. The baggy clothes at home; a security blanket, helping her hide. It was how she felt with them, how she felt about them. If she had gotten rid of the patterns without them finding out, maybe things would be different. She felt like a raw nerve, like every bit of her was on display and being inspected. What if she said the wrong thing? What if they didn’t like her answers? How honest should she be? But Mira would lose it if she lied or hid again. They were just starting to feel like them again, she couldn’t risk going backwards. But what was she supposed to say? How could she explain how she felt? How could she tell them…

Rumi swallowed audibly, gaze falling to her lap, “I was scared.” She whispered to her hands, as she plucked at invisible threads on her cuffs, pushing herself even further into her hoodie.

“Of what, sweetie?” Zoey asked, the levity from earlier slipping into simple kindness.

“Losing you,” Rumi sniffed and rubbed at her nose, “Celine raised me to hide. Every time the patterns spread, she got so disappointed, and that just made it worse. But I wanted to tell you from the minute I met you. I knew right then what you would mean to me, and it killed me to hide from you. I asked so many times. You have no idea. Every time I asked, she told me the same thing: the only way I’d be accepted was if I sealed the Honmoon. Then the patterns would be gone and I could just be. So that’s what I started to believe –that no one could ever love me, not all of me. I thought I had to get rid of the shameful part to even deserve love.”

“You know,” Mira started as she shifted to sit on the coffee table across from them, “I never really liked Celine anyway.”

Zoey nodded, “Hm, mmhmm. She always rubbed me the wrong way. It was like she was purposely pushing a wall between us. Which, I guess she was. I’m sorry Rumi.” Zoey moved closer as well and gently rubbed slow circles on her back. “But we’re here now. We’re talking. And we’re listening.”

Rumi did her best to open up about her childhood. The way the patterns spread, how it felt when they did. She talked about growing up with Celine. The goal to seal the Honmoon; how selfish she felt. She wasn’t sealing the Honmoon for the world, she was doing it for herself. Each song, each dance, each fight was to get her one step closer to being freed. But it was never good enough. When Celine saw a new pattern, she pursed her lips and scowled. “Again, Rumi? Really?” And she would have to fight everything in her to not let the pain and shame take over.

“There’s so much about me I want to share with you. For years I’ve wanted to tell you. Over and over. Our debut. Our first tour. That time Zoey almost broke her foot when she fell off the stage during rehearsal,” Zoey looked indignant and tried to chime in, but Mira cut her off with a look, “Every. Single. Time you asked me to go to the bathhouse.” Rumi dropped her head into her hands and sighed.

After a brief pause she continued, “But after that first fight, seeing you both hurt? Because of me? I knew I could never let that happen again.” She was picking at some invisible lint on her pajama pants. She was trying not to focus on any one thing, afraid she might cry if she looked at either of them.

Mira moved to sit next to her, tucking one leg underneath her and draping one arm behind Rumi on the back of the couch. Her stoicism set aside for the moment, she tried to actually show how she was feeling and asked, “So, wait, in the infirmary? When you woke up, was that… was that your patterns spreading?”

Rumi couldn’t meet her eyes, but she nodded in a small voice, “Yeah. I, um, I just got better at hiding the pain after that so you wouldn’t notice.” She shrugged like it was nothing, like the pain was a small price to pay for their protection.

Mira reached out and cupped Rumi’s chin, gently pulling her up to meet her eyes and whispered, “How much pain have you been in this whole time?”

Rumi slumped against Mira’s grip and whimpered, “More than I have words for.” She tried not to see the flash of anguish in Mira’s eyes, but it was there, even if just for a moment. Mira slid her hand to the nape of Rumi’s neck and pulled her forward until their foreheads met. The gentle tug made her tremble, but she didn’t pull away, she let herself be pulled deeper into the touch.

“Well, that explains a lot.” Mira said quietly, pulling back to look Rumi in the eye, hand still resting on her neck. “I can’t imagine what that must’ve been like for you. We just thought you were modest and private.”

Rumi’s neck tingled where Mira’s fingers rested, making her stumble over her words a bit, “Yeah. Uh… learned behavior? I guess?” Rumi shrugged like it didn’t matter. “When I was little I’d wear tank tops or short sleeves, but Celine put an end to that as soon as they spread too far. She was just doing what she thought was best…”

“Yeah, that’s not good enough.” Zoey said from Rumi’s other side with a huff. “She forced you to hide from us. She… she made you not trust us. We have gone into literal war with you not trusting us. We’ve put our lives in your hands and, conversely, you have put yours in ours without fully trusting us. That is absolutely insane.”

The lump in Rumi’s throat made her voice hoarse as she looked up into Zoey’s eyes, “I do trust you. I swear I do.” She looked to Mira, “I’m sorry I lied. I just knew that I had to protect you, put you first. Worrying about myself just wasn’t the priority, you were. You still are.”

Mira’s heart clenched, “Rumi, you’re not just our leader, you’re our friend. We love you.” She glanced at Zoey who nodded in agreement, “This is equal and even on all three sides. There’s no us without you. You don’t have to fight anything on your own ever again.”

Rumi’s eyes started to water, “It’s just so hard to break through all of these walls I’ve built. I’m not sure how to do it.”

“See? I told you, you have walls.” Mira threw in, Zoey scowled at her. “What? I did…”

“Not. Helping.” Zoey glared.

Mira sighed, “Sorry, Rums. Not trying to dig at you.”

“No, it’s okay. I get it.” After a pause she added, “Is it okay if we take a break on the questions for now? I’m getting a little overwhelmed and kinda wanna chill. Maybe just watch a movie?”

Zoey smiled warmly, “Absolutely! Let’s go to my room. You pick. I’ll get fresh snacks.”

“Just don’t go overboard, Zoey.” Mira said flatly, standing and stretching.

“I have no idea to what you are referring.” Zoey stuck her nose in the air with a smirk.

Mira stared at her and pointed directly at the mountain of breakfast food left untouched from the previous morning. Zoey just shrugged and got to work on the snacks.

Once they were all settled in Zoey’s room, another pile of snacks prepared, Rumi got to work scrolling through movies when she stopped on D.E.B.S. “Have either of you seen this? It’s American, I think.”

Mira looked up from her magazine and shrugged, “Nope, but you’re calling the shots. Whatever you wanna watch, I’m game.”

Zoey on the other hand had seen it, just not with them, “I have. I dunno if it’s really up your alley, though.” She tried to sound as disinterested as possible, staying focused on her guitar, but part of her wanted to watch it with them and see how they reacted.

“Oh? How come? Is it boring?” Rumi turned to look at her, eyes curious.

“No, it’s not that, it’s just –” Zoey didn’t know how to answer.

“It’s just what?” Rumi’s brow furrowed in confusion.

Ya know what, screw it. Let’s see what happens.

“It’s about four college girls who are part of a secret agency to become superspies. But the leader falls for the supervillain.”

“…Why wouldn’t that be up our alley?” Mira asked, confused.

“The leader and supervillain are women.” When they didn’t say anything, Zoey stopped strumming her guitar long enough to look up at them; Mira looked intrigued, Rumi blushed. “Like I said, I dunno if it’s really up your alley,” she paused eyebrows raised in question, “Unless, of course, it is?”

“Is it up your alley?” Mira asked, eyes calculating.

Touche, Mir, touché. Shit.

Zoey shrugged, “I liked it. It’s fun.” Mira and Rumi glanced at one another, then back at her. “What?”

“Nothing!” They both said at once, but Mira was watching her, intrigued. Rumi’s blush had crept up her neck and into her patterns, disappearing into her hair. Interesting.

“Do you not wanna watch it? I can pick something else.” Rumi: always coming in with the save.

Zoey shrugged, refusing to back down, “Like Mira said, I’m game.”

Rumi shrugged and clicked play while the others joined her. Mira lounged back into the ample pile of pillows at the head of Zoey’s bed, eyes still on her magazine. Zoey took up the spot on the other side of Rumi, trying to seem neutral. As the intro played, Mira occasionally glanced up, pretending not to be interested. Zoey smirked to herself, Gotcha.

About halfway through, Zoey wanted to see Mira’s reaction to a scene, “Hey Mir, what do you…” but when she turned to look at her she realized she was fast asleep. She smirked, “Out like a light. Just you and me, now, Rums.” She nudged Rumi in the side, who hadn’t moved an inch since the movie started.

Zoey’s smile faded a bit, “You okay, Rumi?”

“Huh?” Rumi blinked like she was waking up, “Um, yeah. I’m good. Just… watching the movie.”

In the background, New Order’s song Temptation played during a montage of the main characters falling in love.

Zoey raised her eyebrows and watched as Rumi squirmed. Her voice dropped a bit when she asked, “Is something wrong?”

“No, no, not at all,” Rumi glanced at Zoey quickly. Zoey was watching her intently, like she was trying to puzzle something out.

“What?” Rumi asked, “Is there something on my face?” She immediately started wiping at her face.

Zoey snorted at her, “No, you’re good.” Her voice dropped a little, “You’re perfect.” Her eyes went wide and her head snapped back to the movie. They sat frozen next to one another for several minutes before Zoey cautiously asked, “Can I tell you something?”

Rumi looked to her giving her full attention. “Of course. You can tell me anything, Zo.”

Zoey’s turned her gaze downward, as if she were embarrassed. She took a deep breath, fiddling with her favorite turtle stuffy, “So, I’ve been thinking about how to say this and I’ve decided to just say it.”

Rumi started to speak, but Zoey cut her off, “No, let me get this out or I’ll lose my nerve." She blew out a raspberry and shook her head. She kept her gaze downward, speaking to her hands, “Yesterday you said something that really made me think, about your patterns. Rumi, It’s not that I hate your patterns. I really don’t. Actually, I think,” She looked up and met Rumi’s eyes, “I think they’re beautiful. I think you’re beautiful.” She looked back down, fidgeting, “And… every time I look at them, I just, I can’t stop staring. That’s why I’ve been avoiding touching you. You know how I am; once I fixate on something, it’s hard for me to let it go and I don’t wanna do anything that might make you uncomfortable… I just… I need you to know that it’s not that I don’t want to touch you. It’s that I do, I really do… and I don’t want to… I don’t wanna overdo it or overwhelm you or anything, so, I just… I just stopped… I’m sorry.”

Silence stretched – not awkward, fragile.

Zoey lifted her gaze. Rumi’s eyes were red, her patterns pulsing a pale purple, tears slipping down her cheeks. Zoey’s eyes went wide, “I’m sorry, Rums. I shouldn’t have said anything. I… I’m sorry. I’ll just…” She started to move away, but before she could Rumi reached out quickly and latched onto her hand.

Zoey looked down at Rumi’s pattern-covered hand wrapped tightly around hers, warmth blooming through her chest. As she settled back into her spot, she smiled fondly and interlaced their fingers hoping she wasn’t pushing, but Rumi let it happen.

A comfortable silence stretched between them as they watched the rest of the movie. Their hands stayed intertwined long after the credits rolled.

Chapter Text

*Present Day - Morning in the Penthouse*

Mira slowly blinked herself awake, stretching and yawning. She felt a warmth pressing into her chest. Instinctively, she wrapped her arms tightly around it. The pressure curled in tighter, nuzzling in. She rested her chin atop a mane of purple hair, sighing contentedly.

Purple?

Mira’s eyes snapped open. Panic surged – then stalled. With her heart pounding, she slowly looked down and fully realized that she was, in fact, holding Rumi. Tightly. And by the Gods it felt… right? She allowed her gaze to widen and take in the rest of the scene around her. There was Zoey, curled up against Rumi’s back with an arm resting over her waist.

Oh boy…

Mira swallowed down her panic and tried to focus. She must have fallen asleep during the movie because she definitely did not remember getting the blanket that was draped over them. Nor did she remember them curling into each other. Or her. As she calmed her breathing, she slowly started to realize just how good it felt. How right it felt. She allowed herself to enjoy it for as long as she could. She could think about what all those feelings meant later.

Unfortunately, the universe seemed to have other ideas. Right as she was starting to slip back into sleep, she heard a buzz coming from the nightstand behind her. She silently cursed as she carefully twisted around trying not to disturb Rumi–who whined softly in her sleep when Mira moved. She reached behind her shoulder and grabbed the offending object. She lifted up the vibrating rectangle and squinted at it, realizing she was holding Rumi’s phone–with Celine’s picture flashing across it.

That woke her up.

A protective rage began to boil in her chest. How dare she? After all this time? After everything she put them through? Put Rumi through?

But no. This was Rumi’s decision. If she wanted to talk to Celine, that was her choice. So, with great effort, she used her other arm to gently wake Rumi who shook her head and snuggled in deeper. Mira’s heart absolutely melted.

Oh geez. Get it together, Mira.

She mentally shook herself and whispered, “Rumi? Sweetie? You have a call.”

Rumi groaned in response, “Just ignore it,” and nuzzled into her neck.

Mira had to fight the urge to click decline right there, but instead she said, “It’s Celine.”

Rumi’s eyes flew open and she sat straight up, completely breaking the cuddle circle–though Zoey seemed undisturbed. She looked down to Mira, who hadn’t moved from her position except to offer her the phone. Rumi cautiously took it, watched it ring a few more times, then made eye contact with Mira before she pressed “accept”.

“Hello?.. Yeah, I know… No…” Rumi stood up and started pacing, “Right now isn’t a good time, Celine… No, I don’t want to talk about it…”

Mira watched as Rumi shrunk into herself, starting to pull away again. Old habits seemed to die especially hard. She was getting angry, but instead of saying something she sat on the edge of the bed and gently reached out a hand to Rumi, trying to pull her back to safety. Rumi shook her head, eyes wide, fear and anxiety taking over.

“No Celine, I… that’s where you’re wrong. I don’t owe you a damn thing…”

Mira’s eyes grew wide as she stood and stepped in front of Rumi, stopping her pacing. She snatched the phone out of her hand and ended the call. Rumi’s face fell in shock, but Mira ignored it and gently pulled her in for a hug.

“Mira! What… why would you do that!?” She tried to pull away, fear and anger warring inside her, but Mira refused to let her go.

“Because you don’t need her anymore.” Mira whispered against her temple, “You have us. And we aren’t going to let her hurt you ever again.”

Rumi’s brow furrowed a bit as she felt another body press tightly into her back, slender arms encircling her waist. “Yeah,” came a sleepy voice, “What Mira said.”

Rumi tried to calm down. Not only had she finally stood up to her, but for all Celine knew she had just hung up on her. Her anxiety was reaching a fever pitch, she had to get out of there. She extricated herself from the shelter of their arms, pushing them away, no matter how right it felt. Which was something she would have to think about later. The instinct to flee was too strong. She bolted for her room, ignoring the pain in their eyes.

--

Mira huffed and flopped back down onto the bed, throwing an arm over her face, frustrated. Zoey stretched and yawned. “What did I miss?”

“Celine called.” Mira mumbled from behind her arm. She felt the bed shift as Zoey sat next to her, “Rumi got upset. I got mad, so I stole her phone and hung up on her.”

“Ohhhh,” Zoey’s eyes went wide, “But, why do you think she took off? Should we follow her?”

Mira considered for a minute, “I think she’s hiding again, and honestly, I’m kinda tired of chasing her and trying to get her to open up,” she sighed deeply as she sat up, “it’s getting old.”

Zoey watched her silently, which made Mira look up, “What?”

Zoey paused for a moment, considering how to voice her thoughts, “Listen, I hear you. I get it. But if we want her to open up, we have to help her. She’s not gonna unlearn twenty years of conditioning in a few days. I know you’re upset. I am too and I hate that she took off and shut us out again, but honestly–what did you really expect her to do?”

Mira just stared at her, awed.

Zoey became uncomfortable under her gaze, “What? Did I say something wrong? I’m sorry if I upset you. I’m just being honest. I–”

Mira smirked, “Zo, relax. It’s okay. You’re right. I just…” she sighed, “every single time it feels like we’re headed in the right direction, something else gets in the way.” She rested her head in her hands, thinking about how it felt having Rumi curled into her chest, nuzzling against her neck…

“Mira?” Zoey rested a hand on her shoulder, “Everything okay?”

How did she answer that? Was everything okay? She scrubbed a hand down her face, “Yeah. Yeah, I guess…”

They sat in silence for a few minutes, then she asked, “On another note, what happened last night? How’d we all end up sleeping in here?”

Zoey immediately reddened, “Oh, um, you crashed before the movie was even half over.” Her blush deepened, “Rumi and I finished watching together and we talked. A bit.”

Mira raised her eyebrows. Why was Zoey blushing so hard about just talking with Rumi? “Oh? What did you talk about?”

Zoey stood up and started pacing, “Okay, well, I kinda sorta told Rumi…” She looked up at Mira wincing, then back to her hands. Rocking back on her heels, nervousness physically rolling through her in waves. With eyes squeezed tight, she rushed out, “I told her I think her patterns are beautiful? And I think she’s beautiful. And the reason I stopped touching her was that I want to touch her. Because of how badly I want to.”

Mira sat in stunned silence as Zoey rambled, her pacing becoming frantic.

“And then she let me hold her hand for the rest of the movie… And I dunno what any of that means, but I think–” she stopped in front of Mira and actually looked at her this time, taking a deep, settling breath before closing her eyes again, “I think like her. Like… like her.”

Zoey winced at her own words, waiting for the rebuke she expected—but none came. The words hung between them, raw and honest.

For a moment, Mira forgot how to breathe. Something in Mira cracked open — Zoey’s panic, her honesty, all of it hit harder than she expected.. The tension that had coiled in her chest for weeks, maybe even years, had finally relaxed.

Zoey stood in front of Mira, ringing her hands, trying to contain the panic building in her chest. Mira didn’t move. Didn’t speak. Just let the words settle between them, warm and terrifying and true.

Zoey cracked one eye open and peered at Mira, who was grinning like a fool.

“What?”

Mira shook her head, still smiling, “Nothing, jagiya. Not a single thing.”

Zoey plopped down next to her on the bed, staring at the ceiling. After a beat, Mira asked, “So, was that your way of coming out to me?”

Zoey smacked her with a pillow.

--

Rumi leaned against the balcony railing, the icy cold metal biting into her forearms. The cold air swirled around her, tugging at her braid, stinging her eyes. She couldn’t tell if her tears were from the wind or from the chaos of her morning.

Head in her hands, everything that had just happened raced through her mind:

Waking in Mira’s arms. Wow.

Zoey wrapped around her from behind. Double wow.

The call. Fuck.

Celine’s automatic expectation of reconciliation. What the hell? How could she possibly think she was owed anything?

Mira taking her phone–that pissed Rumi off more than anything.

The double-sided hug. Not melting into their arms was so difficult, and she wanted to, but she just couldn’t bring herself to relax.

Derpy nudged her in the side, almost making her topple. She sighed as she rubbed his head, “What am I supposed to do now?”

A fresh sting erupted along her collarbone –shame sparking it to life – searing and intense, like a brand. The new pattern pulsed faintly under her hoodie, glowing as she exhaled. She clenched her jaw, forcing herself to breathe through the pain, using it to focus.

Her phone buzzed again in her hand. She squeezed her eyes shut and slumped forward. She didn’t have to look – she already knew. Of course it was Celine.

“Ugh… FUCK!” she bellowed into Seoul’s quiet dawn.

Sussie squawked indignantly as he fluttered away and resettled on a nearby flower pot.

She stared down at the phone, torn between answering – facing the fight head on or ignoring it, feeding the dread coiled in her chest. She gripped the phone tightly, willing it to shatter so she wouldn’t have to choose. No such luck; the damn thing just kept vibrating.

“Ya know, even though I’m pissed at Mira for hanging up on her,” Rumi said to Sussie, “you’d think she’d get the message that I do not want to talk right now. But nooo.”

She sets her phone down on the railing, watching it light up and fade, light up and fade. Each lull let her heartbeat slow; each ring started it racing again.

And that’s where Zoey found her – staring at her phone, damn near frozen on the balcony.

Zoey slowly stepped through the sliding door, the chill wind making her curl into herself. She was not dressed warmly enough for this kind of cold.

The sight in front of her made her heart ache; Rumi’s shoulders drawn tight, faint shivers coursing through her, tears cutting frozen tracks down her face.

Zoey reached out, fingers barely brushing Rumi’s hoodie–but Rumi flinched away, as if burned. Zoey froze, hand hovering, then tried again, slower this time. Rumi didn’t move.

“Hey, you,” Zoey whispered. She rubbed small circles into Rumi’s back, careful, grounding, “What do you need? What can I do?”

Rumi didn’t answer right away. She tilted her face into the wind, letting it freeze her tears until it stung. Zoey stayed close, waiting. Her quiet, gentle presence anchoring Rumi.

When Rumi finally turned to her, she rasped, “I really don’t know.”

“And that’s totally okay, but…” Zoey leaned against her shoulder, huddling against the cold, “do you think we could move inside? I seriously don’t know how you’ve been out here for so long. I’m freezing.”

Rumi smiled weakly at that and sniffed, the cold finally starting to register as more than just emotional armor. “Yeah, I guess that’s fine.” She slowly straightened, feeling the stiffness in her muscles strain against the movement. As she turned to go, Derpy nudged her from behind with his head.

“Okay, okay. I’m going.” Rumi huffed in mock indignation.

The door slid shut with a faint thunk as Rumi settled onto her bed, sitting cross legged and plucking absently at her pajama pants. This was becoming routine: emotional chaos, panic-induced escape, then a quiet reconnect with one–or both–of them. It was exhausting, but necessary. At least, that’s what the logical part of her brain kept telling her.

Zoey plopped down next to her with an overdramatic sigh. “So…”

Rumi looked up with a brow arched, “So…?”

Zoey smiled faintly, trying to figure out how to be what Rumi needed. “Do you want to talk about it?”

Rumi chewed on her lip, thinking. There was so much to unpack–the cuddling, the call, the retreat. What did she want to talk about?

After a pause she said, “Yeah, I think so.”

Zoey perked up, listening intently.

Rumi continued plucking at her pajama pants, considering where to start. “I guess,” she began, “I guess I’m just… frustrated…”

Zoey scootched closer, their knee brushing , and reached out to touch Rumi’s hand. When Rumi didn’t pull away, she slipped her fingers between hers, locking them together. She risked a glance up and caught the faint magenta glow pulsing through Rumi’s facial patterns. She smiled softly before asking, “What are you frustrated about?”

Rumi squeezed Zoey’s hand gently. “Damn near everything today.” She paused, then met Zoey’s eyes, “Except you. I’m not frustrated with you.”

Zoey’s smile warmed, “Well that’s good. We should keep that going.”

Rumi huffed a small laugh before continuing, “I’m frustrated I even answered the call. Then with Mira for hanging up–like she had no right to do that. And then at myself for running off again.”

She looked back down to their hands, “I just can’t seem to stop myself from running away any time things get hard…”

“Rumi, jagiya, please look at me.” She leaned down, trying to catch her gaze. When Rumi noticed the odd angle she was sitting at, she snorted a small laugh before finally meeting Zoey’s eyes.

“There you are,” Zoey whispered, “Look, I’ll tell you the same thing I told Mira–you’re not going to unlearn these habits in a day. It’s gonna take time. And I’m gonna be there for you every step of the way, okay? You don’t have to do this alone.”

“What about Mira? She didn’t come with you…”

“She will. She’s frustrated too, but she knows I’m right.”

Rumi chuckled at that, her gaze falling back to their joined hands. Only then did she realize her thumb was tracing slow circles across the back of Zoey’s hand. She froze for a heartbeat – but when Zoey didn’t move, didn’t flinch, she let herself keep going.

The air between them softened, warmer now. Rumi exhaled, slow and unsteady, then whispered, “Thank you, Zo.”

Zoey squeezed her hand gently. “Always.”

Rumi was at a loss for words; everything felt so overwhelming. But this – right here, right now, with Zoey–felt right. She was going to hold onto that feeling like a life raft and pray that it would see her through the storms ahead.

Zoey gave her hand another squeeze, “I’m here,” she breathed, voice barely above a whisper, “And I’m not going anywhere. I promise.” She reached out, brushing a loose strand of hair behind Rumi’s ear, her touch lingering for a just a moment before letting her hand fall.

Rumi leaned into the touch, eyes shut tightly and nodded. Zoey’s words echoing through her mind like a spell she wasn’t sure she believed yet – but oh, how she wanted to.

Chapter Text

*Present Day - Afternoon in the Penthouse*

The broth simmered on the stove, its earthy, savory scent enveloping the kitchen. Mira’s hands moved as if on autopilot - chopping vegetables, grinding spices, prepping shrimp. Steam rose from the stock pot as she lifted the lid to stir, the aromas easing the tension in her shoulders.

This was comfort - familiar and safe. Ji-an, one of her parents’ kitchen maids, always made doenjang jjigae for her after she got in trouble. Which was quite often. Somehow, she always managed to screw up with her family. She was tired of being the one who pushed people away.

She sniffed as she stirred the soup, forcing the memories down. She wouldn’t let her parents back in, not after all this time. She kept stirring, watching the broth and vegetables swirl - the hypnotic motion soothing the deep ache in her chest.

She covered the soup and turned it down to simmer. Reaching into the cupboard, she pulled out three bowls, then paused. Would they join her? Would Rumi? Her shoulders sagged again, the weight of their earlier confrontation seeping back in.

Screw it. If they come, they come.

She began setting their places at the bar as if she were expecting them, just in case. Each bowl matched the girl it belonged to — Zoey’s chipped favorite, Rumi’s simple white porcelain, her own dark stoneware. Creatures of habit.

When she turned back to the kitchen to check the soup, Zoey was suddenly there.

“Gods Zoey!” she clutched her chest, heart pounding, “You scared the shit out of me!”

“Oops. Sorry Mir!” Zoey apologized – though a smirk played at her lips.

Mira scowled, mask snapping back into place as she steadied herself, “…Can I help you?”

Zoey’s eyes widened dramatically, “It smells DELICIOUS in here. What’re you making?”

Scooting around Mira, she hopped onto her stool and watched Mira intently – too intently.

“Um… doenjang jjigae. With shrimp.”

“Mmm, sounds amazing.”

Mira narrowed her eyes. “Okay, why’re you being so weird? I mean, weirder. This is weird even for you, Zoey.”

Zoey grinned, propping her elbows on the counter. “Weird? I don’t think I’m being weird. What makes you think I’m being weird?”

“Zoooeeeyyy.” Mira turned back to the soup, stirring one last time before deciding it was ready to be served.

“Okay fiiinnneee.” Zoey rolled her eyes, but looked almost giddy, chewing on her bottom lip. “I may have had a teensy tiny moment with Rumi…”

Mira paused, something burned in her chest, but she wasn’t sure what. “A moment?”

Zoey blushed, bouncing in her seat, “Yeah. We were talking about this morning, and it was sooo sweet. I dunno – it made me feel all melty inside.”

Mira snorted. “Melty? Seriously?”

Zoey threw a dish towel at her, “I don’t have another word for it!”

Mira chuckled as she snatched the towel out of the air and tossed it over her shoulder. She smirked at Zoey as she ladled soup into her bowl. “You’re ridiculous.”

“I am not!” Zoey took her bowl with an indignant pout.

Mira looked at her over the bridge of her glasses, raising her brows.

“Okay, fine,” Zoey huffed, breaking into a grin, “Maybe just a little bit…”

Mira finished ladling the soup into her and Rumi’s bowls – just in case she decided to join them – and settled into her seat. They slipped into an easy silence, the kind that only came after long days and longer talks.

A soft shuffle broke the quiet. Rumi stepped into the kitchen, the scent of broth and shrimp guiding her. As she passed, her fingers brushed Zoey’s shoulders – brief, but deliberate – before she sat down next to her. Zoey smiled broadly and made a “See?!” face at Mira.

Mira saw and felt the sting from earlier deepen into an ache in her chest. What was that?

“This smells so good, Mira.” Rumi lifted her bowl and took a small sip. Her eyes shut slowly, savoring the meal, a quiet moan slipped out as she swallowed. “It’s really good.”

Mira swallowed her own sip and smiled faintly, trying not to look too pleased. “Thanks. It’s one of my favorite comfort recipes. I thought…” she hesitated, choosing her words carefully, “I just thought it would be good, ya know? With everything going on this weekend.”

The slight shift in Mira’s expression both worried and confused Zoey, so she tried to nudge the conversation toward something lighter. “So, we only have tonight and tomorrow left before it’s back to work. What do you guys wanna do?”

“Well, we already tried movie night.” Rumi took another sip of her soup, “Why don’t we go out?”

“Like…,” Mira leaned forward to look at them both, “to a club or just walk around the city?”

“Either works for me.” Rumi shrugged, feigning nonchalance. “We’ve been cooped up in here all weekend. Might be nice to get out for a bit.”

“Ooooh, a club sounds fun!” Zoey was practically bouncing in her seat. “Let’s do that.”

Mira chuckled at her excitement. “Whatever you guys want.”

--

Getting ready for the club was an event unto itself. Not for Mira – she always knew exactly how she wanted to dress. Rumi and Zoey? That was entertainment.

Zoey had spent an hour digging through her entire wardrobe, looking for the perfect blend of pop-princess meets Cali-punk. Her floor was littered with shirts and pants of every style.

Rumi, on the other hand, was still standing in front of her mirror as if her reflection had personally offended her. They kept going back and forth between each other’s rooms. Asking to borrow this or that, how does this look, etc.

And Mira? Well, she just watched from the couch, thoroughly entertained. Her tailored black slacks glinting with fine silver threads, ending at burgundy ankle-high boots. The neckline of her silky maroon camisole draped just low enough to draw the eye, offset by a simple silver chain. Head propped in her hand as she scrolled through social media, perfectly content to wait for the others.

The click-clack of heels drew her attention. Her gaze traced upward - block heels, a flowy deep-plum midi skirt, a sleeveless dark-emerald blouse with a soft, draped neckline. The subtle shimmer of Rumi’s patterns matched the fabric’s understated elegance. A glint of a silver cuff caught Mira’s eye as Rumi tucked a stray strand of purple hair behind her ear, her braid neat, but looser than usual.

Rumi met her gaze, color blooming in her cheeks, her facial and neck patterns glowing in kind, “What?”

Mira blinked, realizing she’d been staring. It wasn’t that she hadn’t noticed Rumi before - she always had - but this was something new. And, seeing her like this, soft and learning to be sure in her own skin, caught her completely off guard. “Nothing. Just…”

“Just what?” Rumi asked, voice anxious.

“You look,” Mira licked her lips unconsciously, then blinked before meeting Rumi’s gaze, “amazing.”

Rumi ducked her head, blush deepening, “Thanks, Mir.” She looked up again, something sharper in her gaze, “Not too shabby yourself.”

Mira arched one sharply manicured brow, “Well, thank you. I do try.”

And right then, a babbling ball of energy bounced into the living room, shattering the moment between them. Zoey burst in wearing a lilac sleeveless cropped hoodie, high-waisted black cargos threaded with metallic strands that glinted purple-blue when they caught the light. Her shoes were the most Zoey thing imaginable: platform sneakers with LED soles and shimmering laces. As usual her piercings were on full display - but the piece that grabbed Mira’s attention was a single silver shin-kal dangling from her left ear. Mira sighed. How perfectly Zoey.

Zoey bounded over to the door as if they hadn’t been waiting on her. “You guys coming or what?”

“Rumi?” Mira asked, standing and stretching. Her camisole shifted just above her beltline, catching Rumi’s eye.

Rumi’s eyes snapped up to meet hers. Mira smirked.

“Absolutely.” Rumi swallowed hard. “Let’s do this.”

--

The ride to the club was full of anticipation. Mira sat languidly, checking her makeup in the window’s reflection. Zoey pulsed with excitement, taking a few snapshots and posting them to their socials. Rumi sat across from them, caught somewhere between anxious and exhilarated. She watched Zoey’s joy, and it infected her - pulling a smile across her perfectly stained lips. Her gaze flickered to Mira, who was watching her with a soft but intent expression, like she was puzzling something out.

Mira leaned in, close enough that Rumi could feel her breath. Her lips parted, about to speak –when the SUV came to a halt. Whatever she was going to say was lost to the moment.

The passenger door opened, and Mira stepped out first, fixing her jacket as cameras flashed and reporters shouted questions. Zoey bounced out next, tugging on Mira’s arm, but she stayed rooted, waiting for Rumi.

Rumi took a deep, steadying breath. This wasn’t the first time she’d been in public with her patterns exposed, but this time felt different. Something had shifted between the three of them – something new humming beneath her skin. In her head. In her heart.

With a final mental head shake, she stepped out of the SUV, taking Mira’s offered hand for balance as her heels touched the pavement.

She looked up into Mira’s eyes, “Thanks, Mir.”

Mira’s stern, public façade relaxed for a moment, “Don’t mention it.” There was a soft tension there – new and unexpected.

The bass hit before they even stepped inside, pulsing through the ground and up their spines. The VIP hostess’s eyes went wide as she became flustered with the presence of HUNTR/X in her club. Mira told her what they wanted and the woman nodded quickly, steering them toward a roped-off booth at the back.

Zoey’s energy was palpable as they moved deeper into the club, “I love this DJ!”

Mira chuckled, “You love every DJ.”

“I do not! Just the good ones.”

Mira rolled her eyes and nudged Rumi, “Tell her I’m right.”

Rumi glanced at a hopeful Zoey and said, “Sorry Zo, we all know you’re a sucker for anyone behind a turntable.”

Zoey threw her hands up in the air, incredulous.

Mira slipped into their booth, settling into the curve at the back.

“Aw come on, Mir! I wanna be with the people!” Zoey whined, flopping down next to her.

Mira ignored her as she ordered bottle service for the girls and a whiskey, neat, for herself. Once finished, she turned back, rolling her eyes, “Go ahead, Zo. I just wanted to make sure we had a place.”

“Oh no you don’t.” Zoey scooted closer until their knees brushed, pushing into her space. “You’re not sitting back here and watching all night - you’re dancing.”

Mira scoffed, leaning back, draping an arm on the back of the booth, feigning indifference. “I dance all the time. I am literally our lead dancer.”

“Yeah, on stage. With choreo. You never let loose. So. Let. Loose.”

Rumi watched the exchange with a wry smile. These two were absolutely ridiculous – but it warmed her heart.

“Well,” Rumi said, drawing both their attention, “if Mira won’t dance with you…” She looked between them before landing on Zoey, voice dropping an octave, “I will.”

Mira’s gaze sharpened, something unreadable flickering beneath it.

Zoey blushed, then chuckled. “Perfect!” She grabbed Rumi’s hand and pulled her up. “Come on, Rumi. Let’s make her wish she was on the floor with us.”

Mira chuckled as she watched Rumi let Zoey drag her onto the dance floor. It wasn’t that she didn’t want to join them – she definitely did – she just… couldn’t. Something held her back, something she couldn’t quite name. It was becoming more and more difficult to mentally justify her distance.

As Zoey spun Rumi in a blur of movement and laughter, Mira felt a tug in her chest. The bottle service arrived, the server setting the tray down without a word. Keeping her eyes on the dance floor, she picked up her whiskey and took a slow sip, letting the burn bite at her tongue as the tension in her shoulders began to unwind.

The music pulsed, rolling through the crowd, her heartbeat falling into rhythm. The lights cascaded over Zoey and Rumi – violet, gold, deep blue.

Zoey was chaos incarnate: laughter, movement, light. Rumi, hesitant at first, began to match her tempo, the rhythm loosening her edges. Their joy was infectious; Mira felt the corners of her own mouth lift before she could stop it.

She took another sip watching as Rumi was bathed in the light of the club – blue, gold, purple –head thrown back in laughter as she moved to the beat, letting it take control. Her patterns flashed in contrast to the strobes, their opalescent nature rippling in waves of shifting color – as if her body couldn’t quite decide what to feel. Mira’s fingers flexed against the side of her glass, a quiet ache unfurling in her chest at the thought of tracing those glowing lines, memorizing every curve they followed… She clenched her jaw and turned away, willing the thoughts to dissipate.

Zoey twirled Rumi one last time before drifting deeper into the crowd. Rumi stayed behind, swaying on her own, eyes closed, lips parted – lost in the music.

Mira’s chest tightened. She took one last sip of her whiskey and stepped off the platform toward the dance floor.

--

For the first time in her life, Rumi just let herself be. The bass thudded through her ribs, the press of bodies, and the chaos around her forming one relentless rhythm. She let herself be taken by it, swaying to the music in a way she never had before. Relaxing into the music was new – and breathtaking. Why had she never allowed herself to do this?

As she moved, she felt a light touch on the small of her back. Her breath caught as her eyes opened at the touch – a smirking mouth and deep brown eyes looking down at her.

Mira leaned forward, lips brushing Rumi’s ear, “Care to dance?”

Heat rushed to Rumi’s cheeks at how close she was, at the steady pressure of Mira’s hand guiding her, their cheeks brushing. Her breath hitched – and for a heartbeat, the music disappeared.

Rumi only nodded, letting Mira lead. A twist, a twirl, a press-and-pull in perfect rhythm. A smile played across Mira’s lips as she steered them through the beat – confident, composed, entirely in control. During a turn, Mira pulled Rumi in close, bodies flush. Mira swallowed hard and immediately pushed them into a different rotation, putting a little more distance between them.

But, when the song ended, Rumi found herself breathless, pressed close. Mira’s hands resting on her waist, hers lightly on Mira’s shoulders. For a long moment, neither moved. The pulse of the next track filled the silence between them, breaking the spell. Something flashed in Mira’s eyes – something Rumi didn’t have a name for – before she dropped her hands and stepped back, leaving the dance floor. Rumi caught the flicker of something raw before Mira turned away – heat, conflict – something that stole the breath from Rumi’s lungs, and then she was gone.

Rumi stood frozen, heart pounding. What... just happened?

Rumi followed after a beat but Mira didn’t stop at the booth – she snuck out a side exit into an alley. Rumi caught the door right before it clicked shut behind her – immediately cutting off the music, surrounding them in a heavy quiet. The cool night air stung her sweat-soaked skin. It took a moment for her eyes to adjust, but when they did she found Mira’s lithe frame, braced against the opposite wall, shoulders tense, facing away.

Rumi stepped closer and placed a hand on Mira’s shoulder. Instantly she felt tension coil tighter beneath her touch as Mira’s posture stiffened.

“Rumi, don’t.” Mira ground out.

“Why?” Rumi asked softly, “What’s wrong?”

Mira didn’t answer, her body taut as a bowstring.

Rumi stepped around so they were facing one another and tried to catch her eye. She whispered, “Why’d you stop?”

Mira didn’t look up, “Because if I hadn’t,” she said, voice low – rough but controlled, “I wouldn’t have.”

Rumi froze – and melted – all at once. What does that even mean?

Mira looked up then and the look in her eyes made Rumi take a step back. Mira watched her for a moment, weighing something hidden. She stepped into Rumi’s space, so close, but still not quite touching. Ever so slowly, slow enough that Rumi had plenty of time to pull away if she wanted, Mira lifted a hand, brushing her thumb along Rumi’s cheek. Unconsciously, Rumi leaned into the touch, eyes flitting shut for just a moment.

When she opened them again, Mira was watching her intensely, so focused. “You really have no idea how beautiful you are, do you?” she whispered into the quiet, the warmth of her breath ghosting across Rumi’s cheek. Her gaze flicked to Rumi’s lips, then back again, her own parting as she leaned in.

Rumi’s breath hitched, but she didn’t pull away, instead leaning instinctively closer. The warmth of Mira’s palm, the faint scent of her perfume, the whisper of breath between them. Every sensation crashing into her – heat, heartbeat, breath – and somehow it wasn’t too much.

And then the door burst open.

They sprang apart immediately.

“Hey! There you guys are!” Zoey bounded out, laughing. “Come on! It’s cold out here.”

Mira glanced back down to Rumi, something unreadable in her eyes. She seemed to shake herself mentally before taking another step back, then said evenly, “Yeah Zo, we’ll be right there.” With one last glance at Rumi, she turned and headed back inside. The emptiness she left behind seemed to deepen the chill in the air.

Rumi wanted to say something – anything – but the words lodged in her chest.

And Mira was already gone. Leaving Rumi alone in the alley, thoughts racing, confusion flooding in.

What was going on between them?

--

The ride back to the tower was quiet. Zoey slumbering on Rumi’s shoulder, their fingers laced together; Mira sat with her chin propped in her hand, watching the city fly by. Wedged between them, every point of contact felt alive – charged with restless energy.

She glanced over to Mira, wondering if she should say something – but what was she supposed to say?

She chewed on her lip, thinking. Everything that had happened that weekend had been intense: all the talks, the movie, Celine’s call… Zoey’s closeness… Mira’s almost-kiss…

The thought sent a chill through her spine; they had gotten so close – and she didn’t want to lose that, whatever it was.

Cautiously, she reached out and gently grazed Mira’s hand. Mira startled, and looked down to the touch, then met Rumi’s eyes. She tilted her head, gaze calculating. Just as Rumi was about to pull her hand away, Mira turned her hand over, letting Rumi slip her fingers between hers. The squeeze that followed was enough.

Well, that’s something at least.

--

When they arrived, Rumi gently shook Zoey awake as Mira got out and opened the door for them.

“C’mon Zozo. We’re home.”

“Mm? I’ll just sleep here…” Zoey mumbled, curling tighter against her side.

Mira rolled her eyes, leaning on the open door.

Rumi chuckled, “Yeah, that’s not happening. Come on.”

She groaned as Rumi helped Mira get her out of the SUV. A sleepy Zoey was a heavy Zoey, but they managed to get her in the elevator and up to the penthouse. Mira took over from there, guiding her to her room.

The silence of the foyer was deafening after the noise of the club and the tension of the drive home. Rumi stood there, feeling as if she were on a precipice - but she didn’t know which direction led to safety and which to falling over the edge.

And which did she want?

The safety?

Or the fall?

She was still lost in thought when Mira returned to the kitchen. She hadn’t changed yet, just kicked off her shoes and tossed her jacket aside. The edge of the night still clung to her, but she looked softer now. Mira put the kettle on and prepped some tea. When she looked up and saw Rumi still standing there, she reached back into the cupboard, grabbed a second cup, and gestured for her to sit.

That got Rumi moving. She took her usual seat while Mira worked in silence. Eventually, Mira set a steaming cup in front of her. She took a sip, eyes shutting as the warmth settled in her chest and eased her anxious mind.

When she opened her eyes again, Mira was watching her – guarded, but something raw flickered beneath.

“What?” Rumi asked softly.

“We need to talk.”

Chapter Text

*Years Earlier - Post-Debut Era*

Their debut had been insane. The bathhouse was one of the few ways Mira and Zoey could relax away from cameras and questions. They went whenever they could escape – and always asked Rumi to join them.

“You always say no, Rumi.” Zoey whined through the door.

“You’re so modest.” Mira added, frustration slipping through. “It’s just the bathhouse.”

“Maybe some other time.” Rumi’s voice was soft, apologetic. “You guys go ahead.”

“Every time.” Mira’s mouth pressed into a line – not angry, just… tired.

“Mm-hm.” Zoey sadly agreed.

The elevator ride down to the garage was silent, both of them frustrated, but not surprised.

“I wonder why she never wants to go with us.” Zoey’s voice was small, “I mean, she’s such a workaholic, she needs to take a break, too. I don’t know. Maybe she’s shy?”

Mira shook her head. “Shy with strangers, sure. But with us?” Her voice barely cracked. Zoey heard it, but she didn’t say anything.

She cleared her throat and tried again, “Anyway. Just you and me kid. We’ll have a good time. We always do.”

Zoey nodded, her smile returning. “Yeah! All day, just the two of us. It’ll be great.”

--

Usually, they just enjoyed the hot tub for as long as they could stand it, but not today. To truly make the most of their day, Mira had scheduled them the VIP treatment.

Zoey practically popped from excitement.

“Oooh yay!” Zoey jumped up and down, tugging on Mira’s arm. “The full body scrub and massage?”

“Yep. The works,” Mira said, smirking at her enthusiasm. “Hot tub first though. I need a good soak after the last few weeks.”

They made their way to their private changing room to shower and get ready for their day. The room had showers, lockers, and a bench in the middle, giving them plenty of room. Zoey skipped to her side and started undressing. She grabbed her hoodie and tried to pull it over her head, forgetting to undo her space buns, so it got stuck.

“Um…” she squeaked. “Mira?”

A soft chuckle came from in front of her as the hoodie was gently slipped off her arms.

“Thanks, Mir –”

Zoey’s voice caught as she registered what she was seeing:

Mira standing in front of her, smirking as she folded the hoodie and handed it back –  wearing only a sports bra.

Zoey swallowed hard. The laugh that followed came out a little too light, too thin.

She cleared her throat, taking the hoodie. “Thanks.”

Mira shrugged and continued changing. “No problem, kkomaengi.”

Zoey blinked, then turned back to her locker.

She took longer than Mira because she insisted on perfecting her towel space buns.

“Come on, Zoey!” Mira called from the doorway. “You’re cutting into my hot tub time!”

“I’m coming, I’m coming!” she called back.

Mira turned to see Zoey hopping toward her, towel buns completely lopsided. Mira snorted. “Seriously?”

“What?”

“Come here.” Mira rolled her eyes and gestured her over. She took the towel off Zoey’s head and fixed the buns, gently tucking stray strands back under the band.

Zoey flushed then, but she covered it with a grin.

“Okay,” she said, grabbing Mira’s sleeve, “Come on! Let’s go.”

Mira glanced back at the third, empty locker.

“She should be here,” she murmured – barely audible.

Something flickered across her face. Not irritation, something closer to loss, maybe.

She shook herself, softening as she turned back to Zoey.

“I’m right behind you, Zo.”

--

The hot tub Mira had reserved was in a secluded portion of the bathhouse, providing excellent privacy. Mira stepped up to the tub and slid her robe off. Zoey’s throat tightened and she looked away quickly. When she turned back, Mira had slipped into the water, settling in while Zoey was still standing at the edge of the tub.

Mira peeked an eye open. “What’s up? You okay?”

“Hm? Oh. Yeah,” she responded quickly, maybe a little too quickly. “Just zoned out. Sorry.”

She kicked herself into gear and slid her robe off her shoulders and laid it on a chair nearby. Her soft steps were barely audible as she stepped into the tub, sighing as the hot water engulfed her. She laid her head back on the edge and allowed her body to float slightly. She enjoyed the weightlessness almost as much as the heat.

Zoey didn’t know when Mira had moved, but suddenly, she was just there. Shoulder-to-shoulder. Mira always knew when Zoey needed her, even if Zoey didn’t realize it.

Mira copied her pose, head back, legs stretched out, allowing herself to float.

Zoey groaned. “Gods, this feels so good.”

She glanced over, seeing Mira’s side profile and she felt her heart skip a beat. That’s weird. She shook it off and said quietly, “Thank you for planning this and making it a day just for us.”

“No problem.” Mira murmured. “After Rumi bailed on us again, I just… wanted today to still be good. For us.”

Zoey paused, she didn’t know why her chest ached at that, only that it did.

“Mm mmhmm.” Zoey closed her eyes again, the water suffusing her tense muscles, pulling a contented sigh from her lips.

The silence of the bathhouse eased something they hadn’t realized was wound so tightly.

They luxuriated in the warmth and silence for as long as they could before it was time for their full body scrub.

--

Zoey was so excited for the scrub and massage. Her muscles were so tense after their debut and she just couldn’t seem to work out the knots on her own.

Mira scheduled a shared scrub experience, so they were together, in the same room, tables a few feet apart. The attendants turned their backs to the girls and had them each disrobe and get under the sheet on their table. Mira tossed her robe onto a chair and swiftly slipped under the sheet.

Zoey’s breath caught when the robe slid down Mira’s back and hips.

She froze, heat crawling up her neck to her ears.

Just the heat. Definitely just the heat.

Zoey blinked a few times, then followed suit. Mira didn’t say anything, just waited patiently.

The attendants applied a thick, abrasive mixture to their skin and worked it in deftly. Drawing quiet, involuntary sounds from both of them. Once covered, the attendants left to allow the scrub to set in for several minutes, leaving them alone to their thoughts.

Zoey cast a glance at Mira, whose eyes were shut, her breathing even. Something in this moment seemed so uncharacteristic for Mira and it took Zoey a moment to realize what felt so strange:

Mira wasn’t braced for anything.

No tense jaw. No squared shoulders. Arms loose above her head.

She was just… resting.

Zoey realized she had never seen Mira so relaxed, so at ease. It was… beautiful… and intimate.

Zoey’s pulse jumped.

She looked away quickly, heart thudding in her ears.

Don’t make it weird. Be cool. Just relax. Breathe.

After the attendants returned, they rinsed the scrub off and had the girls shower. Then it was off to the massage.

It was a similar set up as the scrub; two tables, side-by-side. This time Zoey managed to not be so awkward and just followed Mira’s lead as she dropped her robe and got under the sheet.

Once settled, the attendants turned back around and offered different aromatherapy scents and oils for them to choose from. Zoey picked lavender and chamomile while Mira chose bergamot and jasmine.

The way their scents mixed together – Zoey’s woody apple and Mira’s citrusy musk – shouldn’t have been complimentary, but somehow they were.

Zoey was just starting to drift off when she heard a sharp hiss to her left, causing her eyes to snap open. She saw Mira’s forehead pressed into the table, shoulders tight, as the attendant massaged her way down Mira’s back. The taut muscles shivered against the pressure as she tried to relax into the touch. It took a moment, but, finally, Mira exhaled, sinking into the table. Her head turned lazily to one side – eyes opening.

Right into Zoey’s

For a moment, neither of them looked away.

The room was quiet but for the water, breath, hands moving across skin.

Then Zoey’s gaze broke first, heat rushing to her face. Mira didn’t react, just sighed into the touch of another rub across her shoulders, eyes drifting closed. Zoey looked back up to find that Mira’s expression had softened slightly, just enough for Zoey to notice.

When Mira finally turned her head away, something low and nameless tugged in Zoey’s chest.

She pretended not to feel it.

But she did.

--

They left the bathhouse feeling years lighter than they entered. Zoey’s contagious laughter pulling chuckles from Mira, Mira’s feigned indifference coaxing some brat energy out of Zoey.

They found a small street café nearby for lunch. A small table in the back, near a window, was the perfect spot for some people watching but also for a little privacy. They were starving after their morning of relaxation and so ordered a ridiculous amount of food (mostly Zoey).

Mira ate slowly, savoring each bite, allowing the flavors to envelope her palette. Zoey inhaled her food like it was going out of style. Mira arched an eyebrow when Zoey looked up at her.

“Wha–? Zoey asked around a mouth full of food.

“Nothing.” Mira said with a smirk, taking a sip of her boba. “I was just wondering if you were planning on breathing sometime soon?”

Zoey paused her assault on the food for a moment. “The cooks will think I don’t like it if I slow down!”

“They’ll think we’ve been starving you and call the cops if you don’t slow down.” Mira said wryly.

Her eyes drifted to the third, empty chair, expectantly. Her smile softened, then slipped. “Besides, we have all day. Take your time.”

Zoey slowed her chewing, catching the shift. Mira’s eyes flicked up to meet hers for half a second, before focusing on her boba.

Zoey’s smile softened. Not big, not bright – just there. “Hey,” Mira looked up again. “I’m here.”

She popped another piece of kimbap in her mouth. “Also, this is stupid good. So, if I vanish from the penthouse, you’ll know where to find me.”

Mira snorted, rolling her eyes. “You can’t live in a café.”

“And why not?”

“Because they’d go out of business.”

Zoey gasped, hand to chest, scandalized.

Mira stood and stretched. “Come on. Let’s check out some of the shops.”

--

They meandered around the street, popping in and out of stores, with no real plan in mind. Zoey hopping excitedly from one to the next, Mira leisurely strolling along behind her. One boutique had massive, floppy hats. Zoey stopped, eyes wide.

“Ohh! Come on! Let’s try on some hats.”

Mira chuckled. “Yeah. I’m good. You go ahead.”

“Suit yourself. More fun for me.” Zoey shrugged.

She stepped through the door of the boutique to a gentle ding, ding overhead. A voice floated from behind hatrack. “Be right with you.”

“Take your time!” Zoey chimed in, smiling at Mira. “We have all day.”

Mira’s smirk relaxed into a gentle smile. Zoey’s chaotic energy always softened her sharp edges.

A store employ came bustling around a corner. “Hi there, how can we –” the employee stuttered to a stop as she realized who was in her shop. Zoey stepped forward, reading their nametag: Aera.

“Hi, Aera! We’re just wandering around. Is that okay?” Zoey asked in earnest.

Aera’s brain seemed to kickstart. “Oh absolutely. Of course. Do you need help with anything?”

“Nope, just pokin’.” Aera looked at her, slightly confused, but nodded and left them to it.

Mira studied Zoey. “ ‘Pokin’?”

“Hm?” Zoey was eyeing a particularly ridiculous giant teal hat. “Oh, yeah. Just something my Dad always says when he’s browsing. Just kinda stuck. What do you think of this?”

She dropped the teal monstrosity on her head. It immediately slid past her eyes, resting on her nose.

Mira chuckled softly. “I don’t know, Zo. Might be a bit big.” She stepped forward and deftly removed it, placing it back on the rack. Mira looked down at Zoey, a tender smile gracing her face. Why did she have to look at Zoey like that? That should be illegal. When Zoey realized how close Mira had gotten, her brain short-circuited.

Oh no. Nope. Brain malfunction. Restart sequence initiated. NOW.

Zoey’s blush deepened, she hadn’t realized just how much she liked Mira in her space. Swallowing hard, she took a quick step backwards, directly into a rack. Knocking it completely over.

At the sound of the crash, Aera came running. “What happened? Everyone okay?”

Mira tried for stern, but failed the second she smiled. “Gods Zoey. How do you even survive gravity?”

To Aera she said. “Yeah. We’re good. Let us help you clean this up.”

Zoey’s blush deepened as she nodded, kneeling down. Mira knelt next to her, knees touching and helped her scoop up the hats.

Zoey handed her pile to Aera. “I’m sorry. I’m such a goof.”

Aera smiled good naturedly. “No worries. They’re hats. They’ll be alright.”

Mira hooked her arm lightly through Zoey’s, guiding her toward the exit. “Thanks, Aera. We’ll get out of your hair and stop destroying your shop now.” She smiled down at Zoey, causing a tremendous amount of warmth to spread through Zoey’s chest. Nope. Nope. This is fine. I’m fine. Everything is fine.

They continued through several more shops until Zoey found a bingsu café.

“Zoey, we just finished lunch. How can you possibly be hungry again?”

“This isn’t food. It’s dessert. Everybody knows dessert has its own stomach.”

Mira rolled her eyes but allowed herself to be dragged inside.

Zoey’s eyes grew wide when she saw how extensive the menu was: classic teas, fruit teas, sparkling fruit sodas, specialty drinks, waffles, taitaki, syrups, toppings, boba…

Mira saw the “404” error code flash across Zoey’s eyes and chuckled warmly. Mira didn’t even need to ask. She stepped up to the counter and ordered. She got Zoey the Cookies & Cream: classic and sweet. And she got the Mangonada: fruity and spicy. Perfect.

Once they got their order, they found a bench nearby and settled into a gentle silence while they enjoyed their treat.

A warm breeze tugged a strand of hair out of one of Zoey’s space buns. Mira leaned in without a word and tucked it back behind her ear. Zoey’s cheeks reddened again. She was going to have to get used to that – Mira’s softness, her care, the way she touched her like it mattered.

She looked up and met Mira’s gaze. “I know I said it earlier, but really, thank you for today.”

Mira’s smile was soft and genuine. “My absolute pleasure.” After a beat she added. “Besides, what would a spa day with you be without a little chaos?”

Zoey threw her napkin at her but missed entirely. Mira snatched it up and tossed it in the trash.

“Let’s head back. Maybe we can convince Rumi to play Mario Kart.”

They both knew she probably wouldn’t – but they hoped anyway.

Chapter Text

*Present Day – Penthouse, after the Club*

The edge of the night still clung to them as they exited the elevator. When Zoey leaned into Mira for support it felt familiar, easy – the kind of soft weight Mira was used to carrying.

“You good?” Mira asked, voice low.

Zoey nodded. “Mmhmm.” Her head lolling against Mira’s shoulder. Mira smiled to herself, knowing no one could see it. Taking care of Zoey, steadying her – that was easy, had always been easy.

When they reached her room, Zoey all but collapsed face-first onto the bed.

“Oh no you don’t,” Mira sighed. “You will hate yourself in the morning if you fall asleep like this. Come on.”

Zoey groaned but pushed herself upright while Mira rummaged in her drawers for lounge pants and a hoodie.

“You should go wash off your makeup before–” Mira started but when she turned back around, Zoey had flopped back onto the bed.

Of course she had.

Mira chuckled to herself, shaking her head. She sat on the edge of the bed and began unlacing Zoey’s sneakers. She slipped them off and set them aside. She’d done this a hundred times – shoes off, pajamas on, covers up. It was familiar, safe. The kind of practiced movements that came without thought.

Zoey groggily sat up as Mira finished with her sneakers and instinctively drifted into Mira’s side. Mira’s autopilot stuttered – the familiar suddenly felt… different.

She went still for half a second, breath caught in her ribs. The night had been full of surprises, but somehow this –Zoey’s warmth curled into her side– was what shook her.

The ease was still there, but now it carried an intense jolt of awareness that Mira had not been prepared for.

Nope. No. Not doing this right now.

After setting down the sneakers, she turned to the cropped hoodie. The moment Mira lifted it, she froze –just for a moment– because Zoey wasn’t wearing anything underneath.

No tank top.

No t-shirt.

No bra.

No nothing.

Heat crawled up Mira’s neck before she could stop it. She quickly cast her eyes aside, jaw tightening as something low and dangerous unfurled in her stomach.

Focus, Mira. Just. Focus.

She grabbed the fresh hoodie and guided Zoey into it with quiet, calm hands that were somehow steadier than whatever her pulse was doing. Zoey didn’t notice, but she did – every slight brush of fingertips over warm skin landing like fresh embers she couldn’t seem to ignore.

She’d done this for years. She could do it now.

She could pretend nothing was different.

Even if something inside her had shifted without warning – something she absolutely could not look at.

Not now.

Not tonight.

One crisis at a time.

Once Zoey was dressed, Mira nudged her up onto her pillows and pulled the blanket up over her. She handed Zoey her favorite turtle plushie. Zoey grabbed it immediately, tucking it under her chin. Mira couldn’t help the small smile that slid across her face; something tight in her chest eased.

Then –slowly– Mira reached out and brushed a loose strand of hair from Zoey’s face.

Zoey’s eyes fluttered open at the touch, heavy with sleep tugging her under. Her unfocused eyes searched until she found Mira. They held each other’s gaze, letting the quiet linger between them.

“Thanks, Mir,” Zoey whispered.

Mira shrugged, stretching her legs out in front of her, even as her pulse struggled to settle. “You know I’ve always got you. I have no problem being there when you need me.”

Zoey was quiet for a moment. Then she looked again – really looked – at Mira. Something in her expression was sharper, focused in a way that made Mira’s heart stutter.

As she curled into her pillows, Zoey yawned and murmured, “I always need you.”

The words made Mira freeze. Not forcefully – just a soft, sudden stop. Like a gentle hand pressing to the center of her chest.

Zoey said it so simply. Like it was obvious. Like it was true.

Too true.

Too real.

How does she do that?

The thought came like a whisper, almost a plea.

Mira stayed there for a little longer, trying to gather her thoughts without letting them wander somewhere dangerous.

Her chest tightened and she suddenly needed to get out of there before her body gave her away. Once she was certain Zoey had fallen asleep, she quietly left the room. Her feet were steady, but something tightened in her ribs all the way to her room.

She calmly closed the door, then pressed her back into it. The cold metal slowly leached the buzzing energy out of her piece by piece. She took a shuddering breath, trying her best to slow down. She ran her hands through her hair, tugging just enough at her scalp to feel something anchor her.

Slow down, breathe. Just breathe.

She slipped her jacket off and draped it over her desk chair then kicked her boots off letting the familiar rhythm of autopilot take over again. For a long moment she simply stood there, in middle of the room. Motionless, heavy, suspended.

A glance toward the balcony.

A small, decisive nod.

“I need some air.”

She stepped outside and drank in the night like it was a lifeline. The sharp wind whipped her hair around her face; the cold crept under her clothes, clearing her head with the sharp sting.

She squeezed her eyes shut, willing her mind to not go there, but of course it did.

Rumi.

The alley.

The almost-kiss she couldn’t stop feeling.

Zoey, Rumi.

Rumi, Zoey.

Rumi and Zoey.

She shook her head hard, but the thoughts crowded in, compressing in her chest until she dropped her face in her hands. Her hands trembled. That scared her more than anything else.

Why am I reacting like this? Get it together, Mira.

After a long moment she straightened, squared her shoulders, inhaled slow and deep.

Sleep. Sleep would help.

Tea first.

She quietly slipped out of her room, trying not to wake the others. She took a deep breath and headed for the kitchen. Just one cup of tea then off to bed.

She stepped into the kitchen and moved to the island and put the kettle on. The running water, the soft click of the burner, the hum of the coil – finally, a little quiet.

Then she looked up.

Rumi.

Still standing in the foyer.

Not expectantly, not dramatic – just there. As if she had been frozen in place since they stepped out of the elevator.

Mira knew they needed to talk. About everything. But she just wasn’t ready. Not yet. Not right now.

Mira sighed heavily.

So much for some time to myself.

She wasn’t angry, just tired. So, very tired.

The sight of Rumi reignited the ache in her chest, the slow squeeze around her heart beginning again.

The memory came unbidden – the cold of the alley, the rough brick under her hand, Rumi leaning in, the taste of Rumi’s breath on the air. It came like a wave on the beach; constant, there, but not overpowering this time.

Her control was slipping. The peace of the balcony now seemed miles away.

She fought the memory off and steadied herself with a hand pressed firmly to the cool countertop. She took a deep breath and reached back into the cupboard, grabbing a second cup.

She gestured at one of the bar stools with the cup.

“Sit.”

Rumi obeyed immediately, her movements small but deliberate. They drank in silence for several minutes. The exhaustion from the night finally caught up to Mira, her shoulders sinking with it.

Her cup sat heavy in her hands, her grip tight, trying to quiet the tremor she was pretending wasn’t there.

The calm she had worked so hard to manifest in her room was still firmly in place, but beginning to fray. It was hanging by a thread, thinned over too much too fast tonight.

The clink of Rumi’s cup as she set it on the counter was small, but in the quiet of the kitchen it grated against Mira’s ears, making her flinch. At this point, a gentle breeze could’ve made her snap.

Her grip on her cup tightened before she could stop it – too jumpy, too raw.

When Rumi finally looked up, Mira felt that flinch sharpen into something else.

Rumi stilled, like she was bracing for impact. Her voice, when she finally spoke, was soft, careful.

"What?”

Mira exhaled, slow and tired.

“I think…” she paused, her jaw flexing as she decided how far she could really go – but avoiding wasn’t going to solve anything.

“I think we need to talk.”

Mira watched the pause. She could almost see the deflection forming, the dismissal taking shape.

Rumi took another slow sip before meeting her eyes.

“…We don’t have to,” she murmured. “It’s fine.”

And there it was.

Again.

Rumi’s signature “run and hide”.

Why does she do that?

Frustration flared in Mira’s chest, sharp and hot.

As always – the quiet dismissal wrapped in kindness. Rumi’s wall disguised as reassurance. It hit Mira like a spark on tinder, igniting the already frayed edges of her nerves.

Mira’s calm wavered, then snapped sharply into place.

Jaw set, breath tightening. She chose steady over soft.

She looked up into Rumi’s eyes, steadying herself with what little control she had left.

“Don’t do that,” she whispered.

Rumi blinked, brows drawing together. “Do what?”

“That.” Mira’s voice didn’t rise; it sharpened. “That thing you do when you want to pretend something doesn’t matter.”

“Mira, honestly.” Rumi’s posture tightened – not a dismissal, a retreat.

“It’s… it’s no big deal.”

Mira’s calm cracked this time – not loud, just precise.

“No big deal?” she echoed, voice smooth and cool in that distinctly Mira way – dangerous, barely contained.

Rumi didn’t respond, eyes dipping as she took a big breath.

Mira nodded once, slow and deliberate.

She leaned back against the stove like she needed something solid behind her. Her arms crossed on instinct, like she could hold herself together with the sheer force of her will.

“Rumi, I almost kissed you.”

Rumi stilled.

Mira caught the subtle breath hitch, the way her grip tightened on her cup. It was small, but Mira saw it. She always did.

“And you didn’t look away.” Mira continued, quiet.

“You didn’t stop me. You –”

Her throat worked around the words, something like fear threading through her voice.

“You leaned in.”

Rumi finally met her eyes.

Mira’s voice dropped to barely above a whisper, trembling once and then steadying.

“Felt like a pretty big damn deal to me.”

The silence hung between them, both refusing to fill it.

Mira pressed her palms into the counter, grounding herself. Her shoulders had crept up near her ears without her noticing. She let her head drop, tension slipping out one slow breath at a time.

Rumi slowly turned her cup in her hands, watching the tea swirl.

The quiet stretched – heavy, expectant. Mira’s heart had slid into her throat, her heartbeat an uneven staccato. She had no idea what she expected or even wanted Rumi to say. Something. Anything.

“I…” Rumi started.

Mira gradually looked up. Rumi glanced away, the patterns in her neck flaring a bright purple.

She watched the patterns; she knew they only flashed when Rumi felt something intense. That realization hit Mira with a combination of fear and anticipation.

Rumi swallowed hard then looked back to her tea.

“Did you mean it?”

That took Mira aback.

“Mean it?” Mira asked, confused.

“The kiss.”

Rumi’s eyes lifted for a second, then dropped again, squeezing shut.

“Did you mean it? Or–” she swallowed, shoulders curling inward, “was I just… wanting it to be real?”

It came out a whisper, but it echoed through Mira’s chest.

She stilled.

“Rumi.” Mira’s voice was quiet, but certain.

“It was real. I meant it.”

Rumi nodded slowly, eyes darting anywhere but Mira.

Mira watched her then. Really watched her.

She was fidgeting with her cup again, slowly spinning it in her hand, watching the steam rise and fade. She was still in her club clothes, and Mira couldn’t pretend she didn’t notice how beautiful she was. And this time, the thought didn’t shock her – she just didn’t know what to do with it. Want and fear rose in her chest in equal measure, tangling in a knot she had no way of loosening.

As Mira studied her, a question slipped out before she could stop it.

“Did you mean it?” she asked quietly.

Rumi’s gaze flicked up, then fell back to her tea. She nodded.

Something shifted in Mira’s chest –warm, tense, scared– but then–

“I… can’t…”

Rumi’s whisper quivered between them.

“I can’t lose this.”

And Mira felt herself snap back into place, like a door slamming shut in a storm.

“Don’t.” Mira whispered.

“Don’t run.”

Rumi didn’t look up.

Mira circled around the island and came to stand beside her. She placed her hand on the edge of the stool –not restraining, just there– and gently turned it so Rumi faced her.

“Look at me.”

Soft. Not a command. A plea disguised as calm.

Rumi’s eyes stayed down.

“Rumi.”

Her voice didn’t rise. It anchored.

“Look. At. Me.”

Rumi’s fingers tightened around her cup – the smallest flinch – before she finally lifted her eyes.

They were wet.

“If you tell me to back off, I will,” Mira said quietly, steady – almost too steady.

Rumi didn’t move. Didn’t breathe.

“But don’t pretend like you don’t want this too.”

Mira saw the exact moment Rumi’s breath caught.

“I didn’t say I didn’t,” Rumi whispered, still holding her gaze.

Mira’s expression softened – Rumi wasn’t pushing her away, not this time – but then Rumi continued.

“But I can’t lose you, Mira.”

Mira’s chest tightened again.

“I can’t lose Zoey. I just… I can’t.”

Mira paused –really paused–  choosing her words with painstaking care. Want and fear collided in her chest, but she forced herself to breathe through it.

She reached forward and gently cupped Rumi’s cheek. The touch carried a question: soft, tentative, barely there.

Rumi leaned into it, eyes fluttering shut.

“You could never lose me,” Mira whispered into the small space between them as her thumb brushed Rumi’s cheek. “You’re stuck with me. Same as Zoey. That doesn’t change.”

A faint tremor moved beneath Mira’s palm as a single tear tracked down Rumi’s cheek.

“I’m not asking you to choose,” Mira continued, voice becoming unsteady, thin around the edges, “I’m not asking for an answer. I just…”

Her breath caught – uneven, shaky.

“…need you to stop acting like you don’t feel this, too.”

Rumi swallowed, looking up and locking eyes with her. “I feel it,” she whispered. “Gods, Mira, I feel it.”

And there it was – something close to longing shimmered in her eyes that Mira had no idea how to handle.

But…

Rumi’s gaze fell and Mira felt it – that quiet, painful shift – before she spoke.

“That’s the problem.”

The pain in Mira’s chest was like a physical blow. Her jaw clenched. Not anger – agony. The ache of holding something fragile without shattering it.

Rumi’s inhale shook as she slowly lifted her hand and laid it over Mira’s, warm and uncertain,  holding her there for just a moment.

A soft, sad smile touched Mira’s lips before she let her hand fall. She lowered her gaze, grounding herself, stepping back – slow, deliberate.

The silence between them wasn’t empty now.

It was full – want, fear, something new and huge that neither of them could name.

But this time, neither of them ran.

They didn’t fill the silence, they didn’t need to.

“We should sleep,” Mira murmured, turning back to the counter.

She watched as Rumi slid off her stool and headed for the hall. When Rumi paused in the doorway, glancing back, Mira’s heart clenched again – too many emotions crowding her ribs, making it hard to breathe.

She gave Rumi a soft, tired smile. A quiet go on.

Rumi nodded and stepped into the hallway.

And Mira wondered – not if things had changed,

but how much.

--

Mira stood on her balcony, leaning into the cool of the morning. The sunrise spilled across the skyline in soft oranges and pinks. Her hoodie pulled up over her messy pink hair against the wind. Her back ached from tossing and turning all night, a headache lingering behind her eyes.

As she watched the morning come to life below, she sighed, thinking of everything the weekend had held. And what could be lost.

It was the last day of their break. Tomorrow, the tour would start again.

And anything left unsaid would go with it.

She wasn’t sure she’d survive several more months pretending everything was normal.

Mira’s shoulders sagged. She was trying to find the words to say everything, but everything was a lot. How did you put ten years of frustration and distance and lies into words? How could she move forward without talking about it?

But how the hell was she supposed to start?

She took a final breath and headed to the kitchen. She needed something a little stronger than tea.

As she entered the kitchen, she could already smell the fresh coffee. When she lifted her head, she saw Rumi sitting at the bar with a cup already in her hands. Mira’s chest tightened, the previous night flashing through her mind all at once – too sharp, too fast.

Rumi met her eyes for a moment – expression soft, but sad.

“Morning.”

As if the previous night had never happened.

Mira responded flatly, “Morning.”

She couldn’t match Rumi’s casualness; her chest squeezed again.

She wasn’t sure if she wanted to laugh or scream.

How could she sit there and act like nothing had happened?

Mira poured herself a cup and retreated living room, pulling away just enough to keep thinking. Seeing Rumi sit there like nothing had happened, calm and casual, stung more than she expected.

Last night had changed something. Pretending otherwise made the pain worse.

Rumi followed a moment later. She sat a like ways down couch, present but giving space.

Mira clenched her jaw.

She let the silence sit for a while, thick and heavy, while she tried to find the courage to get this out.

She took a slow breath, glanced at Rumi, then back to her hands.

If she didn’t say this now, she never would.

“Look, I am going to do my best to say this without being cruel.” Mira stared into her coffee, but she saw Rumi’s posture stiffen. “But I make no promises.”

Rumi nodded slowly, bracing.

Mira took a deep breath.

“When I first became a part of this –of us– you pulled me in. You wouldn’t let me stay cold and distant. You..."

A memory flickered – Zoey calling upon the Honmoon with such ease, Rumi finding her in the garden – patient and kind.

Even then, she’d already been hiding the truth from them.

"You broke down my walls."

She glanced at Rumi, jaw tightening. Sorrow moved across Rumi’s face; she opened her mouth to respond – but Mira pushed forward.

“And then to find out…” Mira struggled with the words.

“The way we found out. To know you’d been lying to us. For years?”

Her voice cracked. She rubbed her temples, trying to ease the ache building behind her eyes. Everything – last night, the alley, the kitchen – felt too close, too loud.

“Look, logically, I get it.” She shrugged, a frustrated, helpless gesture.

“But, fuck, Rumi –” she shook her head, voice thin –

“it still hurts.”

Rumi didn’t look away. Her shoulders sagged as she exhaled. Fingers tightening around her mug once before she set it down with slow, careful hands.

“Mira,” she started, voice low. “I didn’t lie because I didn’t trust you. Or Zoey.”

A sharp retort rose on Mira’s tongue – she nearly let it loose – but stopped herself.

She forced herself to listen instead.

The silence between them pressed sharp, like broken glass.

“I lied, because…” Rumi drew in a breath, searching.

“Because I was afraid that if I told you what I was –what I really was – that maybe Celine was right. And even if she wasn’t… what if you left anyway? What if you didn’t want me anymore? As a friend. As a…”

She paused, chewing on her lip. Her patterns rippled a faint pink.

“As a partner. In any way.”

Mira’s heart seized as she watched Rumi’s gaze drop to her hands, tugging at her sleeves.

“Yes. Celine raised me to fear you. To fear Hunters.”

Her voice thinned.

“Hunters kill demons. And I…”

She swallowed hard, jaw trembling as her patterns slipped into a rough violet.

“…I am a demon.”

The instinct hit Mira immediately.

Her body tensed.

The pull of the Honmoon twitched in her fingertips, her gok-do a thought away.

The reaction scared her – how automatic it was.

And Rumi saw it.

Maybe she always had.

But Rumi pressed on anyway.

“And if I let you know –either of you– how I felt about you?”

Rumi dropped her hands into her lap and met Mira’s eyes.

“If that alone didn’t end things… what if we got close? And then, one day, you saw my patterns?”

Mira opened her mouth to respond. Nothing came.

Rumi didn’t look away. Didn’t flinch. Didn’t soften.

Her gaze held – focused, wounded.

“Can you honestly tell me you would have reacted differently than you did at the Idol Awards?”

The words hit like a blow.

The memory flared – Rumi on that stage, patterns blazing violet; the shock, the betrayal, the instinct.

The Honmoon had surged before she understood what was happening, her gok-do forming in her hand like a reflex.

Could she say she would have done something differently?

Honestly?

No.

“I don’t know.” Mira finally said, staring down at her hands.

Her voice was raw. Bare.

“I want to think I would have. I want to believe I would have seen you –just you– but… I honestly don’t know.”

Rumi blinked hard, tears gathering but not falling.

“So tell me,” she whispered, “how many ways was I risking losing you if I told you the truth?”

Mira didn’t have an answer.

What could she possibly say?

Rumi swallowed hard, the sound small in the quiet room.

“If we sealed the Honmoon, my patterns would be gone. I’d never have to risk it.”

Her eyes closed, a single tear sliding down her cheek.

“I’d never have to risk losing you.”

She whispered in the quiet.

After a long period of silence, she added. “I thought that was safer. For everyone.”

Rumi’s words hung between them.

Mira’s chest ached as she exhaled slowly, the kind of breath that felt pulled from her. Her hands gripped her mug tightly, as if holding a solid object could keep her from unraveling.

She took a long moment before responding. Torn between hurt and anger, pain and betrayal.

When she finally spoke, her voice was barely above a whisper.

“You were so scared of what you thought you might lose,” she turned to look at Rumi, “that it never occurred to you what we might gain.”

Mira didn’t look away.

“You could have given me a chance. Given us a chance.”

Her voice barely held.

“Maybe we would’ve figured it out.”

Rumi’s breath hitched.

Not from pain – from realization.

Rumi looked at her for a long moment –eyes red, breath unsteady– but no words came.

The silence held.

Then: soft footsteps echoed down the hall.

They both turned as Zoey stepped through the doorway, blinking against the harsh morning light. Her hair was a mess, her hoodie half off one shoulder.

“…What’re you guys doing up so early?” she mumbled through a yawn as she padded into the kitchen. She eyed them as she reached for a mug, movements slow and drowsy, but curious.

Neither spoke. Neither even looked at the other.

Mira’s jaw tightened.

“Just… finishing a conversation.”

Zoey took her time making her coffee, studying them. The tension in the room was heavy, unrelenting; Zoey always sensed it before anyone else admitted it existed.

Mug in hand, she wandered into the living room and curled into her usual spot on the couch. Mira felt the shift immediately; the whole room calibrating the moment all three of them were in it. Together.

Zoey sipped her coffee slowly, eyes moving between them. When her gaze landed on Mira, something sharpened –  awake, aware.

“…This about last night?” Zoey asked carefully.

They didn’t answer. But Rumi’s posture stiffened and Mira’s jaw clenched again.

Zoey nodded as she folded her legs beneath her.

“Aha.”

Silence stretched. The conversation between Mira and Rumi frozen at Zoey’s arrival, but Zoey wasn’t stupid – this was about her too.

After a beat Zoey leaned forward, trying to catch someone’s, anyone’s, eyes.

“… Do you guys want me to go?”

Her voice small, fragile.

“No!” both Mira and Rumi said, too loud.

Mira forced herself to relax and softened her tone.

“No, Zoey. You don’t need to go.”

Zoey looked unconvinced. She glanced at Rumi, who nodded firmly.

“Okay… if you’re sure…”

She glanced between them again, reading every flinch, every breath.

After another moment she said, “So… the alley?”

Rumi’s head snapped up. “You know about that?”

“You guys sprang apart like teenagers getting caught by their parents.” Zoey’s lips twitched into a small, sad smile. “I think I know what that means.”

Rumi’s patterns flushed a faint pink up her neck, as she turned to look out the window.

Mira dropped her gaze, jaw tight.

“Yeah, well. A lot has happened this weekend.” Mira looked back up to her, gaze sharpening. “For all of us.”

 “What do you mean?” Zoey looked at her, concern pulling her brows together.

She looked at Mira like she already knew the answer but wanted Mira to be the one to say it.

Mira looked at Rumi who seemed very interested in her coffee mug. She took a deep breath and leaned forward, elbows braced on her knees. She needed a moment before letting this out.

Screw it. Now or never, right?

Mira opened her mouth, finally ready,

but Rumi moved.

Not much, just a small shift. But Mira saw it.

Rumi looked like she was gathering herself. She let out a shaky exhale and squeezed her eyes shut tight before she opened them again.

“I was explaining to Mira,” Rumi said, looking right at Zoey. Her patterns flickered a soft, anxious purple. “Why I kept everything to myself… and what exactly everything means.”

Mira swallowed hard, seeing the patterns reminded her that this was just as hard for Rumi as it was for her.

Zoey’s fingers tightened around her mug. “Okay… And what does everything mean?”

Rumi took a breath like she was stepping off a ledge.

Her eyes lifted to Mira – seeking, scared, hopeful. Mira’s heart stuttered.

“I’m in love with you.”

Zoey froze, mid-sip.

Rumi swallowed hard.

“Both of you.”

Silence echoed through the room.

Zoey’s eyes darted between then, wide and startled, but already starting to soften.

“And… I think I have been,” Rumi added, voice small, trembling, “for a really long time.”

Mira went still. These were the words they’d been circling around last night. She wasn’t shocked at the truth; she was shocked at the honesty.

Zoey set her mug down and reached out, gently taking Rumi’s hand. Rumi looked up, eyes wet.

Mira watched as something climbed up her throat – pressure, emotion, everything all at once.

Zoey’s smile was small but sure, “Me too.”

Something shattered inside Mira – fear, warmth, relief all at once.

If she didn’t say this now, she’d drown in it.

She turned fully toward them, voice quiet but firm.

“Same.”

Chapter Text

*Present Day – Celine’s House*

The porch creaked under her feet as Celine made her way to her favorite seat. The damp chill of the morning seeped into her bones before she wrapped her oversized cardigan tightly around her shoulders. Her coffee was still a little too hot but it warmed her from the inside out. She sighed, taking in the morning light spilling over the garden. It should’ve been a source of serenity, of peace and reflection. But not lately. Not since that night. She took a deep breath and tried to focus on anything but the seonangdang. It may have been healed, but the colors of the streamers were muted, as if the force of the Honmoon’s change had withered them somehow. The difference left her… hollow.

Celine glanced to her left, the chair on the other side of the small table was empty. Had been for years. She could almost see Mi-yeong sipping her coffee, smiling at something Celine had said.

Remembering Mi-yeong was always bittersweet; soft smiles immediately followed by the harsh realization that she was in this alone. The ache in her chest a little too loud after all this time.

You said we were in this together. I wasn’t supposed to do this alone. You knew that.

She took a deep breath, rubbing her temples. The very short conversation with Rumi the day prior was still bothering her. She wasn’t trying to be cruel or…  They needed to talk. Rumi needed to understand. They had a mission. They had to protect the Honmoon.

A cold shiver went up her spine, triggering the memories.

*After the Idol Awards, in the seonangdang garden*

The Honmoon rippled with purplish red light around the seonangdang. The breeze should have felt comfortable and gentle; instead, Celine felt haunted. As if all the Hunters before her were reaching through the Honmoon. A warning.

Everything she was – everything she’d been taught – had been to prevent this very moment.

She felt a presence behind her, her instincts kicked in as she spun on her heel, her sickle gripped tightly in both hands. The vision in front of her was one from her nightmares. But all she could see was her scared, little girl.

Rumi – deep purple patterns covering her entire body, pulsing with the rhythm of the now fractured Honmoon, one eye amber and catlike, black and purple claws protruding from the opposite hand. When she spoke, her voice undulated with demonic fury.

Celine’s shock was unreal. Everything she had tried to avoid was unfolding right in front of her. The Honmoon. Rumi’s transformation. Broken promises.

When Rumi dropped to her knees, offering up her ssaingeom, something in Celine cracked. The words, “Do what you should’ve done a long time ago. Before I destroy what I swore to protect,” rattled through her. Was she… was she begging Celine to kill her?

Understanding punched Celine in the chest. Of course she refused. She loved Rumi. The little girl who stole what was left of her heart after Mi-yeong’s death and Sujin’s departure. Rumi was her world. But every instinct in her commanded her to destroy the threat. Neutralize the demon. She fought the urge, refusing to look at Rumi.

“Look at me!” Rumi begged, but Celine just… couldn’t. The patterns covering Rumi’s body hit a chord in her. It took everything she had left not to summon her own weapons. This was Rumi. The girl she had raised. She knew, if she looked at her, her instincts would try to take over. Her training would win out. And she couldn’t let herself kill Rumi. Even if she was half-demon. She couldn’t kill someone she loved.

Not again.

“Why can’t you look at me?!” Rumi’s voice started to resonate, taking on a new depth that shook Celine to her core. Her lack of an answer enraged Rumi.

“WHY COULDN’T YOU LOVE ME!?” Rumi’s voice dripped with venom as the demon within tried to break free. The Honmoon responded to her, each word punctuated with another red wave slamming into the earth.

“I do!” Celine tried to look at her, she really did, but seeing Rumi’s demon side taking over was just too much.

“ALL OF ME!?” Rumi’s scream finally cracked the Honmoon, violent red ripples cascaded away from her.

Celine flinched, Rumi’s rage washed over her in time with the Honmoon’s current. She tried to regain her composure, but the sight of Rumi in such a state terrified her.

“This is why we have to hide it.” Celine glanced around like a frightened animal – small, nervous, quivering. The words came like a drill manual; on instinct she recited the mantra. “Our faults and fears must never be seen. It’s the only way to protect the Honmoon.”

Rumi’s glare felt like a physical blow. Her final words sent a shockwave of fear coursing through her.

“If this is the Honmoon I’m supposed to protect, I’m glad to see it destroyed.” And she vanished in a swirl of red-purple smoke.

Rumi’s departure hit Celine square in the chest, dropping her to her knees. If Rumi could teleport, she had already lost her. And Celine had failed the only people she had ever loved.

*Present Day*

Celine took a shaky breath as she sipped her coffee, the memories sending a shiver down her spine. Seeing Rumi like that… she shook her head, dispelling the image.

Of course she loved Rumi.

She raised her.

She did everything she could for her.

The court battles.

Hiding her patterns since birth.

Not letting anyone get too close, just in case.

Pushing everyone away.

Pushing Sujin away.

Celine furrowed her brow and ignored the tears as they gathered in the corners of her eyes.

Of course she loved Rumi.

She was, in every way that mattered, her daughter.

She remembered gathering Rumi into her arms with a joyous laugh when her wobbly legs carried her from the couch to the coffee table for the first time.

She remembered fighting back tears as Rumi marched into her first day of school, chin held high.

She remembered braiding her purple hair every day – the purple hair that came naturally, no matter what anyone thought. Celine couldn’t explain it. It had always been purple.

And she remembered teaching her how to tend to her mother’s grave: lighting incense, sweeping away fallen leaves, brushing moss from the headstone.

Rumi’s mother.

Mi-yeong.

Rumi was all Celine had left of Mi-yeong. Of the life they’d once shared. Those stolen moments over years together – Her, Mi-yeong, and Sujin – the promises they made…

And how each had broken in turn.

Celine ran her hands through her thick, black hair and rubbed her neck, working at the tension there. She sighed, squeezing her eyes shut.

“Oh, Rumi.” Celine rubbed her forehead. “How do we fix this?”

She had just taken a sip of her now cold coffee when her phone vibrated on the table. She was going to ignore it, but the flash of a social media headline caught her attention:

“HUNTR/X Dating Scandal Explodes: Rumira Alley Photos Go Viral”

She froze, nearly spitting out her coffee.

She snatched up her phone with shaking hands. She typed her PIN wrong three times before she got the damn thing to unlock.

Once she had, she quickly scrolled through the photos:

Rumi pressed against Mira on the dance floor.

Mira wearing her trademark smirk that always got the boys – and girls – going as she twirled Rumi around a crowded dance floor.

A dark, blurry moment in an alley. Mira’s hand cupped Rumi’s cheek. Mira leaning in…

Celine’s pulse skidded to a halt and she swallowed hard. The implications of the photos shot through her mind, her chest tightening with each new realization.

The label.

Their careers.

The Honmoon.

SHITSHITSHITSHIT!

This could not be happening. Everything she had ever told Rumi not to do was happening right before her eyes. She had told her to keep those crushes to herself, to not let them get too close.

Celine wanted to get up and pace but couldn’t get her feet to work. She clenched her jaw, her hands a vice grip on her phone as worry and panic started to flood her system.

Then, something decidedly selfish slithered into her chest.

Jealousy.

The shock of it made her sit back abruptly, tears stinging her eyes.

Why do they get to love each other?

Why did Celine and her girls never get their happy ending?

Why did she have to lose everything and they get everything?

Why couldn’t she have what they have?

The tears threatened to fall as the war within raged. She sat frozen for several minutes, coffee and phone forgotten.

She needed to call Rumi and find out the truth. But first she needed to regain her composure.

She slowed her heart rate one measured breath at a time. Her eyes closed, she relaxed her grip on her phone, setting it down. As she focused on controlling her breathing, she felt something tugging in her chest – soft and familiar. A gentle melody, relaxing her anxious mind and weary soul. She started humming along and felt the song stutter, as if the other end felt her as well. She paused then, centered. Hummed a few more notes, the other end hummed them back.

She smiled to herself.

She could feel Sujin’s song through the Honmoon.

After all these years, they were still connected.

The smile she wore was both sad and fond. Oh how she wished Sujin was with her now.

She took another deep breath, bracing. She clenched her jaw and picked up her phone.

Regaining her matriarchal mask, she hit “call” on Rumi’s contact.

Her hand trembled as she held the phone to her ear, heart pounding.

The line rang.

Somewhere across the city, Rumi’s day was about to shatter.

--

*Present Day – Penthouse*

The silence held them, warm and comfortable, as their confessions coalesced. Rumi glanced at Mira and Zoey, a small smile slipping onto her lips. The adrenaline from earlier was fading, replaced by something softer. Something almost giddy.

She felt a breath release inside her that she hadn’t realized she’d been holding. For years. She sighed heavily, heart skipping a beat at what may come next.

Mira cracked a half-smile. Zoey grinned outright.

Rumi opened her mouth to ask, “So, what –”

*buzz buzz*

They all jumped as Mira’s phone skittered across the coffee table.

Rumi’s question was lost as Mira smirked, showed them the caller ID, and hit speaker.

“Hi Bobby!” they chimed.

“Hey girls.” Bobby’s voice was slower than usual, almost tired. He sounded… concerned.

Mira’s smile dropped. “What’s wrong?”

 “Did you guys,” Bobby exhaled slowly, “happen to go to a club last night?”

They exchanged looks. Rumi’s shoulders slumped, Zoey’s brows creased, Mira’s jaw tightened.

“Yeah,” Mira drawled. “Why?”

Bobby groaned. Rumi just knew he was pinching the bridge of his nose.

“There are…” Rumi could almost hear him wince. “Photos.”

Her stomach dropped, patterns starting to sting along her ribs.

“Photos?” Zoey squeaked.

“Yeah… Of Mira. And Rumi.” Bobby clarified. “Dancing.”

A flash hit Rumi – Mira’s hands on her hips, Mira’s breath at her ear, Mira’s body pressed flush against her back –

In the moment, all they saw, all they cared about, was each other. They forgot the world, but the world never forgot them.

Her face flushed deep. Mira’s wide eyes told her she was remembering the same thing.

Rumi cleared her throat. “Okay. What else?”

 “And,” Bobby hesitated, “then there are some… in an alley.”

Mira’s eyes flew back to Rumi’s. Rumi’s throat went dry. She looked down and saw the patterns on her hands flashing a deep eggplant purple. Derpy phased silently through the wall, heading straight to her. He bumped his head into her ribs, nuzzling. Sussie was close behind him, settling on the piano.

“Oh no.” She whispered. Derpy nuzzled into her again, she absently petted his giant blue head.

“Yeah.” Bobby said. “Is there something I need to know? I’m with you girls no matter what, but I need to know what I’m dealing with here.”

“We’ll call you back,” Mira said sharply.

“But –”

She hung up before he finished, already standing and moving toward Rumi.

“Rumi –” Mira’s voice came to her from a distance, like underwater. Her breathing was becoming ragged. The floor seemed to tilt away from her, like she was sliding into darkness.

Another buzz cut her off. Rumi flinched, pulling her phone from her pocket. Her eyes went wide and her heart dropped.

With a shaky hand she turned the screen toward them.

Celine.

She pushed to her feet and moved to the window, staring at the screen. She took a trembling breath and pressed ‘accept’.

“Hello?” Her voice was rough, barely a whisper.

“Rumi.”

Celine’s voice was calm. Dangerously calm.

Rumi knew that voice. She flinched as the memories skittered across her mind – disappointment, failure, pressure, anger; new patterns following every time.

“You’re on speaker.” Her voice trembled.

“Good.” Celine’s voice was clipped, precise. “I take it you three have seen the photos?”

“Bobby just told us, but–”

Their phones erupted with notifications. Mira and Zoey exchanged a look and opened the messages.

Mira’s eyes went wide, her jaw clenching. She showed the message to Rumi. A cascade of photos:

Mira pressed against Rumi’s back, hands on her hips.

Rumi facing her, inches apart, hands on Mira’s shoulders.

And the alley – blurry, but unmistakable.

Mira’s hand cupping Rumi’s cheek.

Leaning in.

“ …Yeah.” Rumi squeezed her eyes shut, dropping her head. “We’ve seen them.”

Zoey set her phone on the table and slowly moved to stand next to Rumi. She planted herself in front of her, stopping anxious pacing before it could get started. She gently reached out a hand, palm up, as one would to a scared animal.

Rumi had to physically overpower herself to keep from pushing them away again. Instead she shivered in place, fear rolling through her in waves.

“Explain.” Celine commanded.

Rumi flinched. She looked up at Zoey then to Mira, eyes wide – a silent plea.

Zoey slipped her hand along Rumi’s arm, grasping firmly – steady in the storm.

Mira’s brows drew together, immediately moving into action – fiercely protective.

She stepped forward, gaze flicking up to Rumi. Rumi felt trapped, unable to react. Mira grabbed the phone and said with lethal calm:

“Well, it’s a good thing it’s none of your damn business anymore.”

*Click*

Her eyes widened as she watched Mira hang up. Again. She wanted to be angry, but gratitude won out. As did the panic. The silence following the sharp click of the call ending was so deafening that her ears started ringing. All she could hear was her pulse thudding hollowly in her chest, her heart attempting to escape.

Her throat started to tighten, breathing becoming more and more shallow, hardly any air slipping into her lungs. Her stomach was in knots, the nausea rejecting her meager cup of coffee.

A sharp spike down her left arm forced her to grind her teeth as a loud gasp was ripped from her lips. She gripped her arm tightly, trying to staunch the pain. Another pattern. Great.

They were supposed to stop spreading when they sealed the Honmoon.

Why were they still growing?

The unanswered question sent a shiver of fear down her spine.

Her eyes darted around the room, finding each exit, planning her escape.

She looked up at Mira and Zoey, breath ragged.

Zoey stepped closer, “Rumi, jagiya.” Her voice low and slow. “Look at me.”

Rumi could barely hear her over her instincts telling her to flee; they kept slamming into her mind over and over.

Her right hand squeezed her arm while her left flexed around nothing, looking for purchase and finding none. Her feet refused to move while every ounce of her being kept telling her to RUN.

Derpy pushed his massive head against her chest. She didn’t notice him pushing her back toward the couch until she suddenly realized her feet were moving with him. She absently reached down and rubbed his head.

Mira and Zoey followed on either side. Zoey was speaking, but Rumi couldn’t hear her. All she could hear was the fury in Celine’s voice.

Her head felt hazy, vertigo slipping in at the edges of her vision. The cool tile under her heels as her feet slipped backwards did little to break the cacophony in her mind. The light from the windows dimmed, the darkness in her vision closing in like collapsing dominoes.

Flashes of her childhood raced through her mind.

“Your mother never struggled with this.”

Never enough.

“Why can’t you get this?”

Never good enough.

“No, Rumi. Not like that. Are you even listening to me?”

Always wrong.

“Just go inside. I’ll do it myself. Why did I even ask you? GO!”

Always screwing everything up.

 Her mother died. Celine never loved her. What if Zoey and Mira left too?

 Always…

 “All you ever do is think about yourself. Just like your mother.”

So selfish…

What if she just cost them everything they had worked so hard to achieve?

How could you leave me?

How could you leave me with her?

Will they leave too?

Another wave of pain traveled down her right shoulder that time, dragging a sharp gasp from her. She barely noticed when Mira and Zoey glanced at one another.

Mira’s presence was calm and steady, but she was starting to feel crowded. She had no way of getting out. She swallowed hard – throat dry, heart pounding. Everything pressing in. They were all so close, she had to RUN, but…

The back of her knees hit the couch, forcing her to sit down. Derpy laid his massive head on her lap, purring loudly. The warmth and weight of him pulled her back, slightly.

Her pupils felt blown, all the light in the room suddenly overpowering her senses. Her jaw clenched tight, her chest pounded unevenly.

Zoey sat next to her, voice soft and even. “Rumi.”

She flinched.

Zoey reached out, gently grasped the hand that had a vice grip on her shoulder and tugged it away. She squeezed it between her hands then brought it to her chest, right above her heart.

“Look at me.” Zoey’s whisper was gentle, but deliberate.

She slowly moved one of her hands away from Rumi’s to reach out and tuck a lock of hair behind Rumi’s ear. When Rumi flinched, she didn’t pull away, just slowed her touch even further.

Rumi could just barely hear her, barely feel her touch, but she tried to obey.

“Rumi.” She repeated.

“Look. At. Me.” The words from the previous night echoing with a different weight.

Trembling, she forced her head to turn and look at her.

Zoey smiled kindly. “There you are.” Rumi’s heart skipped a beat.

“What’s in your head, pretty girl?” she asked, voice soft and low. The grip on her hand warm, grounding.

She didn’t respond right away. She focused on Derpy’s deep purring while she rubbed between his ears.

“Why can’t you get this right? What’s wrong with you?” Celine’s voice crashed through her head.

She squeezed her eyes shut, a tear slipping down her cheek. She tried to shake her head, make the voice disappear, but it sunk its fangs in deeper.

See? You’ve ruined everything. How could you be so stupid?

Her heart squeezed. It was getting harder and harder to breathe. She sucked in as deep a breath as she could, trying to focus.

Zoey. Zoey’s hand was still grasping hers, holding it against her chest. Her fingers warm and soft.

She took another, slow, deep breath. Her leg started bobbing, fast.

She chewed on her lip before she answered. “Celine.”

Mira sat down on her other side, tucking her leg up under her. “What about her?”

She sounded like she was trying not to be snide, but it slipped through regardless. Just having her close, having them all close, was slowly pushing the haze out of her mind and she started to feel her chest loosen.

“I…” Rumi swallowed hard, her voice small and shaky.

Her pause made Mira and Zoey glance at each other again.

“Celine has always known…” Her voice cracked as she tried to find the words. Derpy growled low and nudged hard into her ribs at the mention of Celine again, “How… connected we are, and…” Mira took a deep breath. Zoey squeezed Rumi’s hand again, encouraging.

“She never wanted us to get… Close.” Rumi’s eyes flicked up to Zoey’s, hoping she understood her meaning.

Rumi took another deep breath, less shaky this time. The words lodged in her throat, her heart pounding. Celine’s voice warring with her own.

“Then, when I came out to her at sixteen,” Mira and Zoey jolted, shock evident, “she told me to keep it to myself – that it wasn’t safe.”

“No Rumi. Our faults and fears must never be seen. And this? This is a fault.”

She watched Mira’s jaw clench. Rumi knew her calm was starting to slip.

“And when…” Rumi swallowed hard, her leg beginning to bob again. Derpy purred deeply, nuzzling in.

“When I told her I thought I had crushes on you…” Rumi’s blush deepened, gaze focused on Derpy as she scratched between his ears gently.

Zoey’s posture snapped straight. Mira sucked in a sharp breath, jaw flexing.

“She told me I could never tell you. That it would ruin everything.”

She noticed Zoey was still holding her hand. She squeezed back gently and pulled away.

“So, I shoved it down. Pretended it wasn’t there.” Rumi slouched back against the couch, the admission leaving her chest like an elephant finally stepping off.

She could feel the heat of her patterns pulsing up and down her arms and chest. She wanted to rip her hoodie off, but years of hiding was hard to break. Out of the corner of her eye she saw Zoey quickly glancing down when one of her hand patterns rippled. Rumi clenched her jaw and tried to pull her sleeves over her hands, but Zoey wouldn’t let her. She softly pushed Rumi’s sleeve back just enough to rub her thumb along a pattern that traveled across the back of her hand. Rumi swallowed hard, so unused to being cared for.

“What – and I mean this with every ounce of anger and hatred I can muster – the absolute fuck is wrong with that woman?” Mira said with laser-focused fury. She pushed to her feet and started pacing. Her movements looked frantic, like she was looking for a direction to point her fury.

Rumi glanced up at her and shrugged, then looked over at Zoey.

She sighed, her voice small. “I don’t know.”

Rumi was torn. She didn’t know if she wanted them to give her space or to just be with her. Everything she had been taught told her she should handle her emotions on her own, but the way they were looking at her, the way they were enfolding her… she thought, “Maybe, just maybe…”

“I swear Rumi, it is taking everything in me not to go over there right now and… and…” Mira helplessly thrashed her hands in the air, as if strangling someone.

Rumi cracked a small smile, but her voice dimmed again, “All I do know is that making her mad,” her pupils dilated again, throat dry, “especially about this… is terrifying.”

Rumi couldn’t believe she’d said all that. Gods this weekend was tearing everything open.

After a moment, Zoey whispered, “Rumi… what did she do to you? We were with you for years and never saw this version of her.”

Rumi tugged her sleeves over her hands, trying to hide. She gave a rueful smile, “Well, that’s kind of the point, isn’t it?”

The built-in shame kicked into high gear, urging Rumi to shut her mouth. Go train. Go sing. Do anything but be under a microscope right now, even with them.

Rumi’s nails dug into her palm, the pain something to hold onto. A shiver passed through her as she took another deep breath, trying to steady herself.

Zoey rubbed her forehead, blowing out a deep breath. “Okay, that was… a lot. Like, this entire weekend has been insane.”

Mira nodded, running her hand through her hair. “Yeah, and as much as I don’t want to drag us through any more shit, you know Bobby is wigging out and some intern at the label has a PowerPoint ready.”

Zoey snorted. “And it’s probably terrible.”

A small smile started to spread across Rumi’s face, despite everything.

Before she could think anything else Mira sighed heavily, sitting back down and bracing her elbows on her knees. “So… what do you two want to do?”

Zoey glanced between them, never one to be at a loss for words. “Well, I have a few ideas.”

Mira smirked; it made Rumi’s heart melt. “Just a few?”

“Well…” Zoey giggled, Mira rolled her eyes, and Rumi felt the vice around her chest loosen just a pinch. “Maybe more than a few.”

“Alright Zoey. Whatcha got?” Mira asked languidly.

Zoey took a deep breath, chewing her lip absently. “I know the photos are about you two, but…” She eyed both of them with something like… jealousy.

Mira chuckled. “Jealous of the photos, Zo?”

That made Zoey blush. Hard.

“NO!” She said vehemently. Maybe a little too vehemently. She rolled her eyes at Mira’s smirk. “Okay maybe. A little?”

Rumi couldn’t help but chuckle. Somehow, these two always managed to soften reality just enough to make it bearable.

She took a deep breath, steadying herself. “I think we face it.”

Rumi looked up and met Mira’s eyes. Mira softened, a small side smile gracing her lips. “Yeah?”

“Yeah. Head on.” Rumi faced Zoey, smiling softly. Zoey squeezed her hand again, thumb stroking her hand patterns.

“Yeah. Together.” Zoey’s smile melted her heart.

They could do this. They could figure this out. Together.