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Published:
2025-10-26
Updated:
2025-11-04
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2/?
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All Kinds

Summary:

Mira and Zoey arrive at the hanok to begin their training with Celine, desperate to make it work and terrified that their own particular brands of weirdness will make that impossible.

Luckily, Rumi is pretty weird too.

Based on a tumblr headcanon from polytrixaf

Notes:

Full credit to polytrixaf for the amazing headcanon which I will copy and paste below https://polytrixaf.tumblr.com/post/798156378838532096/obsessed-w-zoey-and-mira-showing-up-at-the

****

obsessed w zoey and mira showing up at the compound stressed out of their minds

zoey has never had an easy time getting along with people her age- or anyone really. she knows shes a lot; she gets loud when she's excited, she has fixations no one else really cares about, she touches for too long. she doesn't know what she's going to do when rumi and mira hate her on day one and she's going to have to spend most of her life trying to win them back. so she will have to stuff it all down- everything that makes her a nuisance- and hope that whatevers left works out. (will there be anything left?)

mira could get along with anyone, if she had to, but lately she doesn't want to. she's spent her whole life working to win people over (her own mother & father, the revolving door of wealth they want to parade her in front of) and now she's determined to be her own person- except she isn't sure she knows who that is. (is there anything of herself left?) instead she wraps the insecurity in frustration; wears anger like a blanket. she needs this more than she's ever needed anything, but how can she succeed if she can't stop herself from biting any hand that reaches her?

and then they actually meet each other, zoey and mira awkwardly having shared a silent car ride there (both of them too scared; holding their tongues for varying reasons), and stumbling out at the compound where rumi is waiting to greet them and. oh. she's so weird. like immediately it is so blatantly apparent rumi is such a weirdo- harmless (cute), clearly unused to social interactions with anyone her age, trying way too hard and being way too formal.

she gives them a tour of the grounds with way too much detail ("that tree is the best one for sitting in the shade, by the way, but that one is the best for climbing when it's windy." "this floor board creaks really loud at night. use that one instead." "you can use anything in the kitchen that you want, any time, but this is my mug. don't touch that." "here are your rooms- i spent a night in each one before you got here. zoey, yours runs a little cold at night. mira, yours lets in the night sounds more. if either of you have a problem, come to me. you can switch with mine.")

(mira stops her at that one, skeptical. "you would just give up your room? haven't you lived here forever?" "yes?" rumi would answer, unsure why this is a question. "but we can't touch a specific mug that looks the exact same as the rest?" "yes," rumi says again, like both of these are obvious. she doesn't bother explaining that it's not the exact same, hers is chipped and she doesn't want either of them getting cut, but she can't bear to throw it out yet. zoey doesn't point out that they could just switch with each other.)

by the end of the first day rumi has made it very clear she does not know how to be a normal teenager, she desperately wants to be liked by them, and she has very strict personal boundaries.

all of this to say they were freaked out over nothing. they're all kids who need this to work for varying reasons; they want to be loved; they all have personal issues to work through; and they're all weird.

it's going to be just fine.

(See the end of the work for more notes.)

Chapter 1

Chapter Text

It’s a nice car, the nicest she’s ever been in: sleek, shiny, a screen that separates the back seat from the driver, and a million miles away from the battered green Nissan of her childhood.

 

There’s even a fridge chockablock with bottles of sparkling water and snacks in brightly coloured packaging.

 

She’s starving- she’d been too anxious to eat breakfast before leaving for the airport, the breakfast burrito they’d served on the plane had tasted funny and she’d fallen asleep towards the end of the flight and missed the japchae they’d served for lunch…but even so-

 

Just sitting inside such an obviously expensive car makes her feel even more airport-grimy than she already does and the buttery-soft leather seats are just begging to be spilled on.

 

Besides, she doesn’t have any money left- the choice to buy a magazine at the airport had proved woefully expensive- and what if they have to pay for the car snacks?

 

The other girl-Mira-isn’t touching them.

 

Are they free? Or are they like snacks from a mini bar in a hotel, like the one they’d stayed in when they visited Halmeoni when she was eight?

 

They’d stayed in a hotel of shiny marble and not-for-touching vases of flowers and there’d been a tiny fridge in the bedroom there too. She’d eaten two bags of chips from it when mom and dad were arguing on the second night- Daddy had left money on the table when they’d gone out to lunch with Halmeoni and all her aunties and Mommy had taken it back before the waitress had come back because that’s not how it’s done here, how many times have I- and then they’d whisper-yelled in the cab all the way home, which had quickly turned into actual yelling once there was no one there- no one except Zoey- to see or hear.

 

The yelling had spilled over into what was usually dinner time so she’d eaten the chips because she didn’t want to be scolded for interrupting- and then they’d both gotten mad at her for being greedy and for racking up a bill because apparently the snacks didn’t actually come with the room, and then AGAIN for not washing her hair when she took her bedtime shower because apparently the toiletries in the shower were DIFFERENT to the snacks in the fridge and it seemed she should have known that all along even though no one had ever really explained it.

 

Now she knows- at least, she knows how minibars work, she knows how hotel showers work.

 

Everything else- fancy car snacks and how to make friends and how to exist in a way that doesn’t make people irritated with you almost immediately…. Well, that’s something she’s still working on.

 

*

 

It’s a nice car- actually the same model as Appa’s, which is how she knows.

The familiarity is disconcerting: sitting in the back with this girl- Zoey- in the heavy silence reminds her of being in the back of the car with Min-Ho as a child. 

 

She feels herself sitting up straighter out of instinct, and then hates herself for it and slumps again, even though it’s actually slightly less comfortable. 

 

The girl glances over at her and then looks away, quickly.

 

Someone else’s eyes on her- even if it’s just this girl, half her size and looking half her age, who’s sitting forward slightly because she got right into the car without taking off her backpack, the straps of which she is now fiddling with- makes her want to straighten up.

 

Show your best self- always your best self!

 

 The impulse makes her prickle with anger- what does she care about what this girl thinks? What does she care what anyone here thinks?

 

Except she does care, she knows she does, she needs to care because it has been made very clear that this is Her Last Chance- and it frightens her, this instinctual rising anger that hamstrings her at every step. 

 

She cannot mess this up.

 

She needs to be different; she doesn't know how to be different.

 

*

It’s a nice car- at least she thinks it’s a nice car. Surely it must be a nice car- it’s the driver service that Celine always uses when she fetches anyone from the city, which isn’t often.

 

 That must mean it’s nice, right? Not that Rumi knows a lot about cars. (She tries googling but it’s not helpful, she isn’t even sure of the name of it, so in the end she closes her phone and tries to put it out of her mind

 

It’s probably fine). 



She hopes the girls like it; she hopes they like the snacks that she chose. She’d spent a whole morning researching: the most popular snacks purchased in the last 18 months in Seoul in the 16-24 demographic. Except it seems that no one has done a study on that, at least not one that is available to the general public (why not? How is Rumi expected to know what these girls will like if there isn’t any data on it?) so she scans half a dozen blog entries entitled things like Must Try Korean Snacks and These Are The Hottest Snacks In Seoul Right Now! Instead.

 

She’s a little doubtful even then- these are all articles by people visiting Korea, not people who actually live there.

 

Still, it makes sense that people who actually live in Korea are probably not compiling lists on their own favourite snack foods- they’re just….going out and buying them.

 

That’s what normal people do.

 

Rumi though doesn’t have the option of just browsing convenience store aisles- whatever she gets will need to be ordered, because Celine has already said no to her request for a trip into the city for the sole purpose of car snack acquisition.

 

She ends up settling for Honey Butter Chips- apparently a viral sensation since March, choco pies and Lotte Yoghurt Gummies.

 

She hopes they taste nice. Maybe she should have tried them too?

 

But she’d known without needing to try them that the choco pies would be too sweet and the Honey Butter Chips would have that strange in-between too-savoury to be sweet, too-sweet to be savoury in-betweeness that makes her want to gag and that the gummies looked like they had the consistency of rubber which was a big no unless she wanted to actually throw up.

 

And she doesn’t want to maybe throw up.

 

So she didn’t try them.

 

So now she’s tied up in knots wondering if she should have chosen differently because what if Mira and Zoey don’t like her them?

 

‘Rumi, you won’t miss them if you wait inside.’

 

(This is the third time Celine has said this today, ever since Rumi expressed her plan to go outside to wait for them after breakfast.)

 

‘I know.’

 

Of course she won’t miss them. But they won’t see Rumi waiting for them either, not if she’s inside, and she wants that, wants them to feel right from the start that they are welcome, that they are wanted.

 

If Rumi was having to leave home and stay with one of them, she knows she’d be scared out of her mind.

 

She wants to help them, to let them know that even if they're coming somewhere new (the worst thing in the world), it won't feel new forever.

 

That right now they're coming somewhere new but one day they'll look back on their arrival as coming home.

 

Chapter 2

Notes:

Thank you so much for all the lovely comments and feedback! Apologies for how short this update is- October half term has been absolutely crazy and this is the first time, between then and getting sick, that I've had a moment to write and post!

(See the end of the chapter for more notes.)

Chapter Text

Rumi has made a list of all the things that they should know about their new home.

 

Not that she expects them to remember it all- she’s written it down too, obviously, on paper that is colour-coded to correspond to each room of the house and also cross-referenced (because, for example, the heating of the house comes under Hallway because that is where the thermostat is, but it also comes under Rules- because Celine does not like people changing it AND under Special Circumstances- because if you’re sick or if the weather gets unseasonably bad, the set temperature is Open To Negotiation Within Reason.)

 

She hasn’t gone overboard or anything- she hasn’t written down every single thing but the important things, like which rooms are not for going into- Celine’s room, Celine’s study- and which rooms are warmest when its cold (the kitchen) and the coolest when its hot (the studio) and which seven trees in the garden are comfiest to sit under to read, in order from most comfortable- the camphor by the three big rocks- to least- the chinese hackberry, which is very well situated in its proximity to the back door but has sub-optimal back support .

 

(There are actually 23 trees in the garden but she hasn’t put a rating for all of them in the binders- she doesn’t want to go overboard or anything.

 

She’ll just let Mira and Zoey know that they can ask for the full and complete rating at any time and that will be enough.

 

Probably.)

 

*

 

‘Here we are.’

 

The car pulls up, they stumble out into the bright sunlight, blinking.

 

Zoey sort of wants to throw up, and only partly because of the car sickness that she hasn’t entirely grown out of.

 

(She doesn’t exactly believe in any particular religion but she has prayed the whole way, to everyone from Confucius to the-father-the-son-and-the-holy-spirit that her parents take her to pray to at Christmas and Easter, to that if they can see a way to making sure she grows out of it within the next day or so, that would be awesome: she knows they’re going to have to do a lot of travel in their new roles and the idea of throwing up in the car of a Sunlight Sister- even if Celine was only ever her second favourite Sunlight Sister- makes her want to shrivel up with embarrassment.)

 

Mira is biting her tongue so hard that her mouth tastes like copper.

 

You have to make this work. Your entire future depends on you making this work. Do not ruin this like you ruin everything else.

 

A walled courtyard. A huge hanok snaking round on four sides.

 

And in front of them, centred very precisely in the middle of the drive, Rumi.

 

They’ve seen each other before, over a computer screen. Exchanged shy, formal greetings under Celine’s watchful eye.

 

But this is their first first time in person.

 

‘Annyeonghaseyo-’ Rumi bows deeply and Mira automatically returns it. Zoey, a half beat behind, hastily bends too, head slightly cocked to check she’s Doing It Right.

 

She knows it’s silly, she knows that- she has grown up bowing at Chuseok, Se-Bae at New Year, and even during the airport transfer, she’d returned the bows of the airline staff and the driver who met them easily because it hadn’t felt like a big deal but this…this MATTERS, and she’s never been able to silence that voice in her head that tells her she’s Doing It Wrong ever, so why would she expect it to stop now?

 

‘Annyeonghaseyo-’

 

Mira straightens up, the back of her neck prickling. She needs to say something, she knows she needs to say something- but what? She knows what she should say-something about the house being beautiful, something about being grateful for the opportunity, for Celine’s benefit- but there’s an instinctive pushback: she knows somehow that if she hears Eomma’s words- words that have been drilled into her with pinches and jabs and scoldings- coming out of her mouth yet again, she will resent herself for it, resent these girls for being witness to it, and once she starts down that path, it….wont end well.

 

 She cannot allow herself to slap the label of Enemy on these girls who have done nothing at all, not when she needs this to work so badly.

 

But she cant say nothing- a silent car ride with Zoey and Celine was one thing but-

 

She swallows. Forces a half smile.

 

‘Wow your house is huge!!’ Zoey blurts out suddenly. ‘And it’s so quiet! You could get, like, murdered here and no one would even hear!’ Then her eyes widen and she looks like she wants to slap her hands over her own mouth, pressing her lips tightly together.

 

Mira snorts with surprised laughter and then feels bad- Zoey looks mortified, clearly torn between apologising and not wanting to make it worse. Even Celine looks a little taken aback, although she quickly smooths over her expression.

 

Rumi though looks thoughtful, shaking her head.

 

‘I don’t think so- we have a really good security system and Celine and I would be able to disarm anyone too quickly for them to do any serious damage. And that even having to protect the both of you too!’ she adds on eagerly, and Celine takes a little breath and gives a tiny shake of the head- as if she has spent quite a lot of time envisioning first-conversation topics and this is not one that she had planned on.

 

 Rumi cuts herself off, chastened. Zoey looks like she’s almost about to cry from embarrassment. Mira is torn- grateful, since it looks like Zoey will be on hand to fill any uncomfortable silences that might crop up, even if she doesn’t have Eomma’s words to fill them, and guilty, because surely if she had had something to say, she’d have saved Zoey this moment of discomfort.

 

‘ANYWAY-’ Celine dives in, clearly determined to just discount the last thirty seconds of conversation entirely, ‘We’re delighted to have you both here. Rumi will show you around and let you get settled and we’ll begin things properly tomorrow.’

 

Rumi beams at them, a practised stretch that is as sincere as it is awkward.

 

‘Please follow me this way!’

Notes:

Did you like it? Please let me know any thoughts/things that worked or didn't!

Re Zoey's particular sense of displacement, I'm aware there's like...a LOT of potential for this white very-much-not-familiar-with-Korean-culture (bar a short trip at uni) writer to get wrong so please let me know if I've made any mistakes!
The bowing thing in particular- my hc is that Zoey has been raised with the Korean culture and customs of her mother but in an American context. So she's used to bowing in a formal context to elder relative as part of Korean celebrations, but she's not used to it as 'This is a way to greet strangers who will infer things from how you do it' so she's more anxious about it than you'd expect.

ALSO i know the concept art shows Celine's Jeju home as being really small but I've decided it's Big because that fits with the story better XD

Notes:

Full disclosure, I am not Korean. I did my best to research for this fic but please let me know if I've made any mistakes re spellings/customs/phrasing etc.

As we don't get much backstory for Zoey, my personal hc here is that she was raised in America to a Korean mother and an American father. She grew up with aspects of Korean culture and speaks Korean fluently but she's never lived in Korea long-term, aside from short visits to relatives.

Do let me know what you think/if their inner monologues match how you imagined them! Warning that I will be switching perspective a lot in this story XD