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Chapter Text

Everything happened so quickly but Celine recognized three things at the exact same time.

First: Mi-Yeong was dead. 

Second: The demon had vanished in a puff of pink smoke.

Third: Hana’s weapon was pointed at Celine.

More specifically at the infant swaddled in Celine’s arms. 

Rumi. 

Mi-Yeong’s baby was named Rumi. And Mi-Yeong had been so excited to meet her daughter, she’d picked the name the moment she found out she would be having a girl. Celine hadn’t particularly liked the name but now Rumi was the most perfect name in the world, and Rumi was the most perfect baby. 

But Hana would not lower her weapon. 

“Put it down, Celine.” Hana demanded, tears running down her face but her eyes cold, “We can’t let it live.” 

It. It. It.

“Hana, please. She’s just a baby, she can’t hurt anybody. She’s only a baby, please! She’s Mi-Yeong’s daughter!” 

The honmoon rippled aggressively, pulsing around where Mi-yeong lay on the ground. It was almost as if the honmoon was weeping for its lost hunter. 

Hana shook her head, stepping closer, dangerously closer. Celine stepped back on instinct, quickly scanning her surroundings for a way out. She could run towards the trees but Hana was always the fastest of the three of them. She could try to make a break for it, duck under Hana’s raised arms and hope that even if she swung, Hana’s hwando would hit Celine’s back instead of Rumi. They had spared together enough over the past ten years that Celine knew she could take a hit from the sword and not fall. 

But even if she got away, where would she go? They were in Jeju, and everywhere Celine knew to go was somewhere Hana knew too. Could she even go to the compound? Their mentors were there, and if they knew what Rumi was they would want to kill her too. 

Celine’s indecision allowed Hana to take another two steps closer without her realizing. Her mind was screaming at her to run, to fight, to do something but all she could do was stand there, shaking her head while tears welled in her eyes. 

“We have a duty, Celine. It’s a demon. We kill demons.”

“She isn’t a demon! She just has patterns, that’s all. You can barely even see them, it’s just a mark on her arm. We can just tell people it’s a birthmark, nobody has to know.” 

“The only thing that has patterns like that is a demon.”

“Hana, please just look at her. Please, she looks just like any other baby.” Celine moved to brush the blanket back from Rumi’s face and angled her towards Hana. Rumi peacefully slept, unaware of everything that was happening around her. 

She looks like Mi-yeong. 

“It has purple hair!” Hana shouted, “It has purple hair, and patterns on its arms, and do you remember what the father is?”

Celine hesitated. 

“A fucking demon! A demon Celine. I don’t know what’s gotten into you but we have worked too hard for you to throw everything away for a mistake like this.” Hana rolled her shoulders and repositioned her hwando, “I don’t want to hurt you. I really don’t want to hurt you Celine but you’re not thinking straight. We swore to protect the honmoon, to protect the world and all of the people in it from demons who would steal our souls in a heartbeat if we gave them a chance.”

She needed to make them understand. She needed Hana to understand, “I promised her, Hana. I promised Mi-yeong that I would protect her daughter.”

“You made that promise before you knew what she had done! She’s the one who betrayed us. She let one of them manipulate her into thinking they were capable of feeling. That he actually loved her. I knew Mi-yeong was naive and look what it got her! She’s dead, Celine!” Hana sobbed, “But I expected you to know better, to be smarter than this.” 

Celine’s heart dropped as she desperately wanted to run and hug Hana, just like she had after their first concert and Hana was so anxious she nearly ran off stage. Or how Mi-yeong would always embrace them after they got hurt on a hunt, no matter how minor the injury really was. Or how Hana would casually wrap her arms around them around the house just because. 

It had all seemed so simple back then. But now she was stuck looking back and forth between the friend she had fought and performed alongside for ten years and the baby she had only met less than an hour ago. Between Mi-yeong’s daughter and the blade poised to strike, wielded in the hands of the other third of her soul. 

“Don’t do anything stupid just because you loved her.”

“You loved her too!” Celine snapped, the sharpness of her voice causing the baby to squirm in her blanket. 

“But I wasn’t in love with her. Celine, she never loved you like that. Don’t let your little crush blind you.”

Celine shook her head, “Stop talking. Stop talking right now, you don’t know that.”

“I do know.”

“She loved me and I loved her!”

Hana lowered her hwando and gave Celine a sad look, “She had a strange way of showing it then, didn’t she. All those nights she went out to be with him, and then got herself pregnant! If she really loved you, why did she need him?” 

“SHUT UP!” Celine screamed

And that was all it took. Rumi who had been so quiet, even from the moment she was born, let out a piercing cry and the honmoon flared red outward from her. Each cry sending out pulse after pulse of magenta in the barrier that protected their world. Just like it did when a demon-

Hana lunged forward, her hwando inches away from Rumi’s chest when Celine’s saingeom clashed against it. She hadn’t even realized she had summoned it, but there it was in her free hand. Her chest heaved as she tried to still her shaking hand. She had never pulled her weapon on either of them beyond training and friendly sparring. 

Hana pressed her hwando harder, trying to break through Celine’s parry. Celine resisted, struggling to wield her weapon in her non-dominant arm. The honmoon pulsed with energy as the two hunters grunted and snarled at each other. Hana pushed forward and Celine’s back arched to keep herself upright. Hana had always been faster, stronger, a better fighter but just as Hana’s blade grew grazed at the skin of Celine’s neck Celine felt something building up within her. The honmoon swirled around her, flaring in a vibrant blue that surged through her from her feet to her fingertips and into her saingeom before erupting in a burst of energy that sent Hana flying back. 

Hana managed to land on her two feet but Celine now pointed her saingeom at Hana, keeping her fellow hunter at a distance. 

Hana simply stared back at Celine in disbelief before allowing her hwando to dissipate, “That thing is going to destroy the honmoon.” 

“No she won’t.”

“For everyone’s sake, I hope you’re right.” Hana shut her eyes but even in the darkness Celine could see the tears streaking down her cheek. She shook her head and turned to start walking.

“Wait, where are you going?” 

“Away, Celine.”

Celine’s heart shattered in her chest and she cried out, “Hana, please. Don’t leave! Don’t leave! We can still fix this, we can, we-”

“I can't stand by and watch you and Mi-yeong’s mistake to destroy everything we swore to protect.” 

Celine fell to her knees and sobbed into Rumi’s blanket as Hana left her alone in the dirt. 

She wasn’t sure how long she stayed like that, clutching the baby to her chest as she cried but eventually she dragged herself over to where Mi-yeong laid. Her eyes were still open, the soft brown that she had fallen in love with the very first time they met over a decade ago. She gently slid them closed.

She almost looked like she was sleeping. She looked peaceful. 

“I promise, Mi-yeong, I will protect her.”

A small whimper from the blanket in her arms made her glance down and really look at Rumi. Her little nose was scrunched up like a kitten but relaxed as Celine brushed her hand along her purple, downy hair. Rumi blinked awake and for the first time Celine saw her eyes. 

Soft brown eyes staring back up at her, identical to the ones that had just closed for the last time. 

Chapter Text

Celine thought she was adjusting to unexpected guardianship as well as anybody in her situation would have. She returned to Seoul with Rumi when she was just over a week old, and unable to bring herself to go back into the penthouse she had shared with Mi-yeong and…well it was better to start fresh anyway. So she moved herself and Rumi into a small house just outside Seoul.

Nothing too special, it wasn’t like money was an issue for them, but the thought of having all that empty space made Celine’s skin crawl. She settled for a three bedroom house in a quiet neighborhood. She read every parenting book that she could get her hands on, found the best pediatrician in the city, and bought the nicest baby clothes. She threw herself into furnishing the nursery.

Mi-yeong had a nursery made up for Rumi too. It was painted a pale lilac with a white crib against the wall. There was a hand knit blanket draped over the railing and dozens of stuffed animals scattered on bookshelves, and an overflowing toy box. On the wall right beside the crib were three hand-prints that made up the shape of a heart. 

Celine had accidently touched the wall with a paint covered hand, and at first she was so worried that she had ruined it but Mi-yeong just smiled and coated her hand in paint before adding her hand print to the wall, then encouraging Hana to do the same. 

Rumi’s nursery here was beautiful too, but it didn’t feel right. The room didn’t echo with laughter, or feel warm when she walked inside it. Celine ended up putting Rumi’s bassinet next to her bed. It was easier that way, for late night feedings and everything. 

It certainly wasn’t because Celine would stay awake at night watching Rumi breathe, just to make sure that she was. Or that Celine would wake up from nightmares of demons (or Hana) coming to steal Rumi away. 

Celine kept herself busy with everything that any other mother guardian would have with a newborn; sleepless nights, reflux, endless diaper changes. She was grateful for the distraction, it kept her mind elsewhere. 

“Rumi-ya,” Celine’s voice trembled as she tried to soothe the wailing three week old “I cannot pick you up right now. I’m trying to make your bottle, okay? Just a minute.”

The infant, however, did not listen to reason. Her cries sharpened, she gnawed on her little hands and rooted in frustration. Searching for a comfort that was not there.  Celine’s heart twisted, she had just fed her a little over an hour ago, shouldn’t that have been enough? Maybe this was that cluster feeding she had read about in one of those books. 

The doctor did say that she was a little on the smaller side for almost a month old, but that it was nothing to worry about. Celine had nodded along like she believed it, but now Rumi's hungry cries echoed through the kitchen, she wasn’t sure if she believed anything anymore.

A shrill cry pierced through Celine’s racing thoughts and she dropped the bottle she was preparing, the contents spilling out on the tile floor of their kitchen. 

For a moment there was silence but then, laughter. 

It burst out of her in breathless giggles, so absurd that she could hardly breathe. She pressed a hand to her face as she knelt down to clean up the mess, laughing so hard her vision blurred with tears. The hysteria broke and she suddenly realized she was crying. 

And she couldn’t stop. 

She hadn’t cried since just after Mi-yeong’s funeral and even then she only allowed herself a few tears after the ceremony by the tree. One of their mentors put a hand on her shoulder before telling her that she needed to be strong for Rumi. That Celine needed to be steady, somebody who wasn’t going to break. Somebody who wouldn’t let her faults and fears be seen. 

Mi-yeong would have been better at this. 

Rumi was still crying and Celine sobbed, “I know, aegiya, I know. You want your eomma. I want your eomma too.”

Mi-yeong wouldn’t have dropped bottles, or put on diapers backwards, or forgotten to put mittens on Rumi’s hands, or let her scratch her face with those surprisingly sharp baby nails. Rumi deserved better than her, but all she had was Celine. 

She pushed herself up from the ground and crossed over to the little swing. Rumi’s face was red and scrunched up in hunger and confusion. Celine gathered her up in her arms and rested her trembling body against her chest, her cheek warm against her collarbone. 

“I’ve got you.” She promised, tears falling into Rumi’s purple hair, “I’ve got you, I’ve got you, I’ve got you.” 

The cries softened and Celine walked back over to the counter and started preparing another bottle with one hand, Rumi nestled into the crook of the other. 

Celine couldn’t bring herself to sing at first. It was too painful after she had lost two thirds of her soul, but she would find herself humming in the middle of the night while patting a fussing Rumi in her bassinet. 

Rumi was about six weeks old when Celine truly sang to her for the first time. It was a simple little melody, something her mentors had taught them all when they first started training. 

Hollo eodumeul balkhiryeo

Uri norae bureurira

Gutgeonhan i soriro

I sesangeul gochirira

As Celine sang, Rumi’s fussing instantly stopped and she looked up at Celine with those soft brown eyes. As if she was hanging on to every word, every note. The honmoon pulsed softly in response to Celine’s voice and for a second Celine could swear that Rumi was looking at the honmoon too, but she must have been imagining it. 

Then Rumi smiled. This impossibly sweet, toothless little smile. It was different from those reflexive smiles she did in her sleep that were also adorable. No, this was a real smile.

And Rumi loved music. 

Rumi had turned two months old before Celine had realized it. She went from this tiny human who slept and cried most of the day to a slightly bigger baby that had recently discovered her hands and Celine could just watch as Rumi waved her hands in front of her face and stared at them like they were the most interesting thing in the world. 

Things had been going well. The pediatrician was happy with how Rumi was growing, she finally stopped cluster feeding, Celine had been singing more just to see Rumi smile, the honmoon had been holding strong. Everything was going fine. 

Celine was fine. 

She was absolutely fine. 

She was enjoying her solitude with the baby of her dead lover best friend. She loved being alone for the first time in over a decade. She was thriving being away from the public eye. She didn’t miss performing at all, or spending evenings eating snacks and watching movies with Hana and Mi-yeong, or laughing hard enough that her sides hurt. 

She was perfectly content raising a baby by herself. Sure she never really wanted to have children but-

No, Celine was doing fine. 

The first time she felt a breach in the Honmoon, Rumi was six weeks old. 

Celine woke up to a cry from Rumi that was unlike any cry she had ever heard before. She shot upright in bed and immediately looked toward the bassinet. Even in the darkness Celine could not mistake the glowing yellow eyes and pulsing magenta patterns of the demon that was hovering over the wailing Rumi. 

Celine did not hesitate, she summoned her saingeom and slashed it through the creature threatening her baby. The demon exploded in a flash of pink debris and with her chest heaving Celine grabbed Rumi from the bassinet and ran with her into the bathroom, flicking on the light before searching over every inch of her body looking for any signs that the demon had hurt her. 

She sighed in desperate relief when the only mark was the small purple swirl on her right upper arm. She held Rumi close to her chest and between mutters of “You’re okay, it’s okay, we’re okay.” Celine started singing to calm the frantically crying baby. 

The honmoon breaches only became more frequent from then. 

Thankfully none of the next ones had been in her home again, but demon hunting alone was no easy task. When it was just one or two demons she could handle it fine by herself, but as the weeks went on the tears got larger and larger. 

After a particularly difficult fight against five demons, Celine stumbled back into their house clutching her side. One of the demons had gotten her good. It slashed its claw deep in her side before she had seen it coming. The pain was immediately blinding but with a frustrated scream she slammed her saingeom on the ground and a strong blue current rippled throughout the honmoon and took the remaining demons with it. 

When she got back to the house she dragged herself to the bedroom to check on Rumi before returning to the kitchen to clean herself up. She hissed as she pressed rubbing alcohol to her side and started the laborious process of stitching her side up. Once she was done she tapped a gauze bandage over the wound and went over to the cabinet to find some pain medicine. 

Before she could take anything Rumi stirred and started whimpering in the bedroom. She had never been good at sleeping alone, but the past few nights Celine had no choice but to leave her. The other hunters were in Jeju and she had no idea where Hana was, leaving her by herself to handle the breaches in Seoul. 

With a sigh Celine tossed a few pills in her mouth. She didn’t even check the label, just tossed the pills back and chased it with the bitterness of soju before tending to Rumi. 

It had been three months since Mi-yeong had died. Long enough for the world to forget that Celine was still breaking.

It shouldn’t have come as a shock to her when she received a call from one of her mentors asking her to come back to the compound. She wasn’t really being asked, she was being told. Sure there had been a few phone calls discussing matters during the past few weeks but none of them were productive. Hana refused to speak to Celine and Celine refused to speak to Hana. 

Their mentors and the record company had done a good job at scrambling together a PR polished explanation for the events on that night. The surprise announcement that Mi-yeong had been hiding a pregnancy from the public, the scandal of not knowing who the baby’s father was, Mi-yeong’s tragic death in childbirth, and the much-needed hiatus of Hana and Celine to grieve the death of their bandmate. 

While their career as idols being put on hold was met with understanding from the public, the same understanding was not given by their mentors for abandoning their duty as hunters. 

The honmoon breaches were becoming more frequent, so Celine and Hana were being summoned back to the compound to discuss the logistics of the Sunlight Sister’s official break-up and pivot into solo careers. 

The morning her hands were trembling as her mind ran wild with scenarios of what seeing Hana again would be like. They started out hopeful enough. That Hana had changed her mind, would accept Rumi, and they could be a family again. But they quickly dissolved into spiraling fears that Hana had told their mentors who Rumi’s father really was, that Hana would immediately try to hurt Rumi, or worse try to kill her again. 

Celine had debated not even bringing Rumi along with her, after all it was going to be hours of boring business meetings. But their mentors wanted to see Rumi again and the thought of leaving Rumi alone with a stranger back in Seoul made Celine want to throw up. 

So she packed enough supplies for a short visit, dressed Rumi in a pair of pink teddy bear overalls over a long sleeve white onesie and boarded the plane to Jeju. 

Chapter Text

The plane ride was uneventful enough. Celine gave Rumi a pacifier right before take off, she had read somewhere that it would help with the pressure changes in her ears and after that first flight back to Seoul in October, when Rumi was only a little over a week old, she did not want a repeat of the non-stop crying. 

The pacifier seemed to do the trick, and Rumi slept most of the flight. There was another small child who spent the majority of the trip crying, earning Celine a compliment from the older woman sitting next, “Such a quiet little one, you’re lucky to have such a well-behaved daughter.”

“Oh, she’s not-” Celine hesitated, Rumi wasn’t her daughter. She would always be Mi-yeong’s daughter. But she didn’t even know how to go about explaining that to a stranger so she forced a small chuckle, “She’s not normally this quiet, but thank you.”

The older woman smiled, “Well, what’s the fun in being quiet anyway?”

She wasn’t sure what she was expecting to happen when she arrived at the compound. Half of her expected to be found out immediately, that this was all an elaborate lie to trick her into bringing Rumi here because they knew she had patterns. 

Instead, she was met with a warm embrace from one of her mentors, Eun-bi, “It is good to see you again.” 

“Ajumoni, it has only been three months. You’ve gone longer without seeing me than this.” 

It was true. At first when the three of them were training and shortly after they debuted the three of them lived here with their mentors, but once they gained traction and proficiency with their hunting they didn’t need their mentors hovering so close. They would see each other maybe once every few months, Celine believed the longest was almost a year. 

“I know, I know. But one never really knows when it might be the last-” She stopped herself and put on a big smile, cooing at Rumi who was now awake in the sling Celine had wrapped around her front, “And look how big jagiya has gotten!” Eun-bi put her finger in the palm of Rumi’s hand and melted when the infant wrapped her little fingers around it, “So precious.”

Celine smiled, “She is precious.” 

“Well come inside, won’t you?” Eun-bi put her hand behind Celine’s back and started ushering her forward, “The others are in the dining room waiting for us.”

Celine’s stomach lurched but wordlessly obeyed, allowing herself to be led into the house. It smelled the same as it always had, not that she would have expected any difference, but it was almost comforting that not everything had changed. 

After taking off and hanging their winter coats Celine made her way into the dining room to find her other two mentors, several lawyers, and in the seat furthest away from the last two open chairs she saw Hana. 

Celine awkwardly bowed holding Rumi and took her seat. Hana wouldn’t even look her way, her eyes trained on the stack of papers in front of her and her jaw set. The formality was jarring compared to the casual affection they used to show each other. 

The playful teasing, the constant hugs, the falling asleep on each other watching movies in the penthouse back when it was the three of them and not two individuals. 

Pleasantries were exchanged but they dove right into the logistics of breaking their contract. The public would be told that the grief of losing Mi-yeong was still heavy and the thought of performing without her was not something they would ever be ready to do. Which wasn’t far from the truth, at least for Celine. 

Hana would start her solo career first while Celine would be given the option of starting one of her own in one to two years. The official reason why was to give Celine time to focus on raising Rumi, but Celine knew it was some clever marketing that would give Hana time to establish her career before having to compete with Celine. 

If she hadn’t been an idol, Celine could have seen herself becoming some kind of businesswoman, maybe even running a production company. But the honmoon chose her, and everything else after that hadn’t really been a choice. 

One of the lawyers cleared her throat and pointedly addressed Hana and Celine, “I just want to be sure that you two understand that once this is final, there is no going back.”

Celine stopped, her pen twitching in her hand as it hovered over the first legal document she needed to sign. The air in the room was thick and her vision tunneled at the words on the page, the voices of the lawyers were drowned out by the humming in her ear. 

Across the table Hana took her pen and signed the first page, her movements were brisk and efficient, as if this was as simple as signing a check at a restaurant and not the end of everything they had built together. 

Celine searched Hana’s eyes for a glimpse of hesitation, that this was as hard for her as it was for Celine but there was nothing but cold detachment as she flipped through the pages signing on each line. She sat perfectly composed, her posture straight and her jaw tight as she worked through the stack of papers. 

“Did you need a minute to read through it?” One of the lawyers asked, mistaking Celine’s pause for confusion about the legal jargon. 

She simply shook her head, “No I just-” her voice cracked and she cleared her throat to steady it, “I understand.”

She regripped the pen and moved to sign her name. 

It felt wrong that something so final could be done with the stroke of a pen. That the years of rehearsals and performances and demon hunts and movie nights could be erased just like that. They had fought beside each other for over a decade. Celine had taken hits meant for Hana, and Hana had taken blows aimed at her. Four months ago, Celine would have killed for either of them and knew they would have done the same for her. And it was all going to be over with a signature. 

Rumi stirred against Celine’s chest in the sling and it snapped Celine back to the present. Her free hand brushing up and down the infant’s back to soothe her. 

“This is for the best,” Eun-bi whispered beside her, prompting her to move forward as the lawyer tapped her fingers against the table like Celine taking a moment to think was an inconvenience for her. 

She exhaled slowly and signed her name on the line. The ink bleeding through in finality. 

The rest of the meeting went by in a blur and Celine did not process the majority of it. She kept glancing toward Hana hoping to recognize the person sitting across the table from her but kept coming up blank. 

When the meeting ended the lawyers left the five women to themselves. The tension was thick enough to be cut by Celine’s saingeom. Eun-bi invited them both to stay for dinner, but Hana muttered something about catching a flight and left without a word.

Later that evening Celine bundled herself and Rumi in their winter coats and said that she was going for a walk. At least it started as a walk, just something to clear her head and burn off the energy that had been building up since the disaster of a meeting. 

But it was always going to end up this way. She stumbled to the sanctuary and fell to her knees in front of Mi-yeong’s grave. Her tears froze against her cheeks as she cried and yelled and pleaded. 

“How could you do this to us!?” Celine hugged Rumi closer, knowing she couldn’t stay out here much longer, “You’re gone, Hana’s gone, and now it’s just me and her! You left us all behind. How could you do this?”

“Mi-yeong was always a bit…impulsive.” Eun-bi mused, startling Celine who hadn’t realized anyone was behind her, “And sometimes that is a virtue and not a flaw. She was radiant on stage, fearless in battle against demons, but she did not always think her choices through.” 

Celine blinked away tears, not wanting to listen to whatever Eun-bi was going to say about her dead best friend.

“Come inside, you’re going to catch your death out here.”

Wordlessly Eun-bi and Celine made their way back to the house. She sat down on the couch and gave a polite smile when Eun-bi handed her a bottle that she had warmed up for Rumi. 

Eun-bi watched in a silent reverence as Rumi drank her formula, “Such a beautiful baby, but my oh my, that hair! It’s a wonder where she got that from, but then again Mi-yeong always had an interesting taste in partners.” Eun-bi laughed, “We should consider ourselves lucky that she found herself pregnant from some ill-advised fling and not by that demon she was spending so much time with.” 

Celine’s head shot up, unsure if she heard the older woman right. Eun-bi knew about the demon? How had she found out? Did Hana tell her? If Hana told her that, what else might Hana have told her? 

Reflexively Celine held on tighter to Rumi. 

“Don’t give me that look, I may be your senior but I am not elderly nor am I blind.” Eun-bi chidded

“How did you know about the demon?” Celine asked, forcing the words from her mouth

“Mi-yeong told me herself, and of course Hana confirmed it after the events of that night.”

Her heart sank. Hana had told her what happened. She knew about the demon, and if she knew about the demon she must know about Rumi.

“Eun-bi, I can explain-” Celine scrambled but was met with a calmly raised hand from her mentor.

“There is nothing to explain. It is a blessing that we don’t know who Rumi’s father is.”

“Ajumoni-”

Eun-bi gave her a stern look, there was a finality to her eyes, “It is fortunate, Celine, that we don’t know who Rumi’s father is.”

Celine nodded slowly, understanding dawning on her, “Yes it is. Very fortunate.” Eun-bi tickled under Rumi’s chin while Celine sat in a state of shock, “Do…do the others know?”

“No. Only myself, Hana, and you. I think it would be for the best that it stays this way.”

“Yes, Eun-bi.” 

The older woman gestured for Celine to hand her Rumi. She hesitated, but if Eun-bi knew all this time she had plenty of chances to harm Rumi before, she wouldn’t have waited until now. At least, Celine didn’t think she would. She never thought Hana would have pointed her hwando at them either or that Mi-yeong would have died. She really didn’t know anything anymore. 

After a long pause Celine passed Rumi over, her hand brushing over the lilac curls before dropping her hands empty in her lap. 

Eun-bi rolled up the long sleeve of the onesie Rumi was wearing, her fingers delicately hovering above the swirl of purple on the infant’s upper arm before pulling the sleeve back down, “Keep them covered. Nobody can know.”

“What about Hana? She, she didn’t even want to let Rumi-” Celine pushed down the memories from that night where she begged her best friend not to kill the innocent baby in her arms.

“I have dealt with Hana, but nobody else can know. Not until the honmoon is sealed. Only then will all the demons be banished and Gwi-ma’s influence on our world will be gone and so will her patterns.” 

Celine blinked up at Eun-bi, “They will?”

“Yes, once the honmoon is gold.” Eun-bi pressed a soft kiss on Rumi’s forehead, earning a delighted coo from the baby, “And perhaps she will surprise us all and be the one to do it.”

Chapter Text

Hana’s new album was a massive success. 

That was never a doubt in Celine’s mind. Hana was a gifted singer, and riding off the popularity of the now disbanded Sunlight Sisters was a recipe for her success. CDs sold out within hours, her songs were constantly on the radio, and the demand for a live performance grew with every interview teasing Hana’s full return from her hiatus. 

And how gracious she was in the interviews. Perfectly poised and professional. Playing the part of the grieving friend who just knew that Mi-yeong would still want her to be living her life and doing what they loved. Carefully tiptoeing around the topics of how exactly Mi-yeong died, who the father of her baby was, and why Celine had totally vanished from the public eye. 

“I would appreciate respecting our privacy regarding the death of our bandmate and friend.”

Because how could they even explain to the public that Mi-yeong didn’t die in childbirth, she was killed by a demon. The world didn’t even know demons existed, they thought it was all ancient myths. 

“While the three of us were extremely close, we all had our own lives at the end of the day. There were always details we did not know about each other.”

Before everything happened, they knew everything about each other. They spent nearly every day together. She didn’t think they had any secrets.

“Celine is focusing on her guardianship of Mi-yeong’s child right now.” 

At least this was a step up from Hana only calling Rumi “it”, but Celine could almost guarantee this was only for the cameras. 

This calm and rational Hana was different from the playful and snarky woman she knew for the past ten years, different from the cold and intense woman who stood with her weapon raised at Celine and Rumi mere months ago, different from the woman who was behind the songs in her recent album. 

Of course Celine listened to it. She listened to it the first day it came out. She got herself and four month old Rumi ready and were one of the first people in line when the store opened. She ignored Eun-bi’s phone calls the entire day, her mentor had warned her the week previously that the album might be difficult for Celine to listen to right now and urged her to wait until the dust settled. 

She waited until that night when Rumi was sleeping, pressing a soft kiss on her lavender hair before putting her in her crib. Celine went into the living room and poured herself a glass of wine, turning her stereo on and hitting play. 

Celine recognized the first song immediately. It was an unreleased track the three of them had written together, back when they still spent night sprawled out on the studio couch, arguing over harmonies, and laughing until the sun came up. They never got the final greenlight from the record company to release it, and Celine wasn’t partial to the song, but hearing it repackaged and perfected without her and Mi-yeong? A twinge of bitterness coursed through her veins. She hadn’t even been asked. 

The second and third songs were worse. Celine knew the lyrics, they were lines she had scribbled in her notebook while she tested out melodies on their piano, metaphors Mi-yeong had scrawled on napkins and sticky-notes that were strewn around the penthouse because she could never keep her thoughts organized, and bridges had Hana improvised during random recording sessions. 

These were lyrics meant for three voices, not one and hearing Hana sing them alone felt wrong. The melodies were beautiful and still sounded like they belonged to the Sunlight Sisters but felt hollow.

By the fourth song Celine had finished her first glass of wine and poured herself another. The melody thinned into something sharp, gone were the bright melodies and bubbly pop genre the Sunlight Sisters were known for. In the fifth song the tension in the instrumentals coiled so tightly with the beat that Celine couldn’t tell if the lyrics were a confession or an accusation. 

Then the sixth track played. 

It drummed without subtlety, the opening chords were disjointed, but Hana’s voice was steady, laced with something that Celine had only ever heard from her once before. The lyrics were generic enough. Betrayal and heart break, the universal certainties that their fans could resonate with because everyone knew their real faults and fears could never be seen. 

Celine’s fingers curled around the stem of her empty wine glass and set it down roughly on the coffee table as she poured another glass that she quickly downed in a few swigs. 

Any plausible deniability was dropped with the beat of the seventh song. The melody angry and jagged, each lyric slammed into Celine like a punch to the chest. 

The damning accusations of betrayal and lies—She’s talking about Mi-yeong.

The pain of someone choosing a stranger over the one who stayed—She’s talking about Celine.

The anger at a mistake for tearing them apart—She’s talking about Rumi.

Celine’s breath stuttered and the wine soured in her mouth. She pressed her fingers to the temple of her head to fight off the spiraling thoughts and building dizziness. She was so focused on the ringing in her ears that she didn’t even realize the music had stopped.

She hit play and the album started again. With trembling hands she went to fill her glass again but fumbled, knocking the glass over and spilling wine on the tabletop. She took the glass and threw it against the wall where it shattered into a million pieces. She looked back at the bottle and drank straight from the source, nursing what remained of the expensive wine as she listened to the album again, and again, and again. 

The first time Celine ever got drunk was actually right after the Sunlight Sister’s first concert. She was seventeen, Mi-yeong and Hana were both eighteen.

They rushed off stage after their encore, still breathless and their veins coursing with adrenaline as they were swept into hugs and congratulations from their management team. She was handed a flute, there was a loud pop, and champagne fizzed as it was poured into their glasses. Hana raised a toast and they drank in celebration. 

She remembered how bitter it tasted to her at first, but warmth quickly filled her chest as Mi-yeong pulled them into a group hug. 

When they got back to the hotel, after another chorus of congratulations from their mentors before bidding them goodnight, the three of them were too hyper to go to bed. So Mi-yeong raided the mini fridge while Celine ordered room service and Hana gathered snacks from a vending machine down the hall. 

Celine hadn’t drank before, not really, not more than a sip of her father’s beer when she was a child. So the high of adrenaline and the buzz from the shot she took at the cheers and goading of Mi-yeong and Hana quickly got her tipsy. 

The three of them ended up playing a version of truth or dare. Most truths they already knew about each other; that Mi-yeong cheated on her history test when she was thirteen, how Hana broke her neighbors window playing with her brother and blamed him, that Celine hid Eun-bi’s shoes once so they didn’t have to go on a morning run. 

Hana smiled, “Celine, truth or dare?” 

“Truth.” 

“Who was your first kiss?”

“I haven’t had mine yet.” Celine shrugged non-chalantly, but Hana and Mi-yeong gasped so hard that Celine could have mistaken it for a travesty.

“Cece! You’ve never kissed anyone?” Mi-yeong asked with a giggle.

“What? I’m only seventeen!”

“Well, I dare you to kiss someone then!” Hana challenged

“It’s not even my turn anymore! You can’t dare me to do something after I already picked truth, those are the rules!”

“Oh come on, don’t be a chicken. The night is still young, I bet we can find a party and find you someone to kiss.” Hana teasingly pushed Celine’s shoulder, “I know you’re the maknae, but I can’t believe you haven’t been kissed before!”

Celine’s face burned, from the alcohol or the embarrassment or a combination of both. She tried to stutter something out about just wanting to stay in and that it wasn’t a big deal, but she couldn’t get her thoughts straight. She didn’t want to go out to a party, she didn’t want to just kiss some random guy. 

“Hey, Hana, back off.” Mi-yeong laughed but there was a firmness to her voice, “You literally told me two nights ago that you never wanted to kiss someone again after that guy from the train station.”

“But that’s totally different! I know what a good and a bad kiss is, Cece doesn’t even-”

Hana’s words blurred into background noise because all Celine could focus on was Mi-yeong shifting closer. How she looked at her, gaze shifting from her eyes to her lips and back again. Before Celine could breathe Mi-yeong’s hands were gently cupping her face, she leaned in and pressed a kiss to her lips. 

It was light but it filled Celine with electricity all the same. Warmth and the faint taste of fruity alcohol lingered on her lips and Mi-yeong pulled back. 

“There,” Mi-yeong nodded, “Now Cece’s had her first kiss, so you can leave her alone.” 

Celine sat there. Stunned, lips still tingling. Her brain was trying to make sense of what just happened. 

Mi-yeong kissed her.

Mi-yeong. 

Hana, meanwhile, screeched, “That’s a loophole! That’s cheating, it literally doesn’t even count!”

“Oh please, you were badgering her! Someone had to do something.”

“Mi-yeong! You just stole Celine’s first kiss! That is a major milestone!” Hana’s voice wobbled with indignation and her words slurred with her drunkenness, “That is a memory she will have forever!!!” 

Yes she would. And Celine’s heart pounded harder in her chest.

Mi-yeong snorted, “It’s not that big of a deal.”

Not a big deal?

Hana, offended on principle, “Fine, if we’re just handing out kisses like they don’t mean anything, where’s mine?”

“You’ve already had your first kiss!” 

“It’s about FAIRNESS, Mimi!” Hana flopped backwards, throwing an arm over her forehead, “I’m being discriminated against!”

“God, you’re an insufferable drunk.” Mi-yeong laughed as she crawled over to Hana, gently grabbing her chin and planting a quick kiss on her lips, “There, are you happy now?”

“Extremly, equality has been restored!” Hana giggled, pulling herself up on the edge of the bed before taking another shot of soju. 

Celine watched in absolute shock as Hana and Celine kept joking about it like nothing mattered. And maybe it really didn’t matter to them. But Celine could still feel the ghost of Mi-yeong’s lips on hers. 

Come morning all three of them were hung over and the kisses were quickly brushed off as something silly they did because they were drunk. 

And that was Celine and Mi-yeong’s excuse when it happened the second time, and the third, and the fourth. But a few months later when Celine kissed Mi-yeong when they were alone in their apartment they didn’t have that excuse anymore. 

Celine woke up slumped over on the couch, the wine bottle empty on the floor as her mind swam through memories of the past and adjusting to the harshness of the present. She glanced at the clock in the kitchen.

Five in the morning.

She must have fallen asleep out here. Celine attempted to sit up but her head pounded in her hungover state; the brightness of the overhead light was cruel and unforgivingly harsh. She glanced around the room, regaining her bearings. There was glass shattered on the floor and the stereo was playing static. 

A small cry from the bedroom cut through the fuzziness in her head. 

“I’m coming, Rumi.” 

Chapter Text

“Eun-bi! Ajumoni!” Celine practically shouted into the phone as she paced the room, “You need to come to Seoul, I don’t know what to do!”

The middle-age woman sighed on the other line, “I trained you to be a competent, calm, and collected. You fight demons, Celine, literal demons and yet you cannot handle a teething baby.” 

Celine groaned as she shifted the wailing Rumi higher on her hip, the baby arching her back as she screamed bloody murder , “I can handle teething just fine,” Celine declared just as Rumi threw her teething ring on the floor and promptly started gnawing on Celine’s finger instead, “I can theoretically handle teething…but she doesn’t sleep! I don’t think she’s slept in three days? Four days? They’re all blurring together..” 

Eun-bi launched into a list of several suggestions, each less helpful than the fast; had she trying singing to her, or holding her at this angle, or giving her something to chew on, or feeding her again.

Celine pinched the bridge of her nose, “Ajumoni, you sound just like the pamphlets the pediatrician gave me”

“Have you tried putting a little bit of whisky on her gums?”

“You literally just made that up! I cannot give a six month old whisky!”

“That’s what my mother did to me!” Eun-bi argued. After several more unhelpful suggestions Celine decides that they’ve been cooped up inside the house for long enough and decides a change of scenery couldn’t possibly hurt. 

She gets herself dressed in a tank top with a plain sweater and a pair of linen pants. She pulled her sleek black hair into a ponytail and put on a baseball hat. 

Less than a year ago she was on the cover of magazines in designer clothing, surrounded by stylists who fussed over her hair, her lips, the angle of her eyeliner. Fans used to scream her name. People wanted to be her or be with her and Celine knew it. She loved it. She used to care so much about what she looked like, but now she just wanted to blend in.

For the most part Celine had been lucky. In the first few months after Mi-yeong’s death people did recognize her but gave her space out of respect.  When Rumi was around three months old a pair of sweet teenage fans asked for a photo. Rumi was asleep hidden under the canopy of her stroller so Celine obliged. 

That had been a mistake. 

Once rumors spread about where she was living the paparazzi swarmed in on her like wasps. Not just trying to get an interview with her. No. They wanted to be the first to get a photo of the baby. The mysterious, unseen daughter of the late Ryu Mi-yeong.

Celine, the mentors, and their management team had done a good job keeping Rumi away from the public eye. Nothing concrete had leaked. No name, no photos. Just that she was the daughter of Mi-yeong, that she had been born in October, and she was in Celine’s guardianship. 

It was honestly entertaining to Celine to read some of the speculative articles trying to guess at what Rumi was named. One person theorized it could be one of five different names inspired by Sunlight Sister songs, another thought it was Ha-joon or Yi-sol (sun and sunlight respectively), because of course the only possible thing Mi-yeong would have considered naming her child after was their band. 

“I think that if you have a boy you should name him Yeonjun.” Celine declared, tapping her pen on her notebook. They were meant to be writing a new song for the album but quickly got distracted, “Or something cool like Minho or Ji-woo.”

Hana flopped on the couch next to them dramatically,“Oh! And if it’s a girl you should name her after your two best friends. Don’t you think, Cece? I think Hanaline or Celiana would be a great name for baby Ryu. Iconic, trendsetting.”

“Your aunties are being silly,” Mi-yeong laughed, gently rubbing her growing belly, “I told you two already that I like the name Rumi.”

“Ryu Rumi…don’t you think that’s a little too matchy-matchy?” 

Celine snorted, “And what if it’s a boy? Are you going to name him Rumi too?” 

Mi-yeong shook her head, “Don’t need a boy name, I know she’s a girl.”

“The doctor said you wouldn’t be able to tell until you’re like five months pregnant. That ultrasound isn’t for another two weeks.” 

“I can just tell. She’s going to be a little girl and I’m going to name her Rumi.” Mi-yeong pulled Hana and Celine into a hug, “And she’s going to have the worst influences for aunts.”

“Oh the worst!” Hana immediately agreed, playfully poked at Mi-yeong’s stomach, “I’m never going to make you eat your vegetables, little Ryu. Not a single one. And bedtimes? Consider them ignored.”

“And I’m going to buy you every single toy you ever ask for. Even if your mom says no.” Celine joined in.

“She’s going to be so spoiled.” Mi-yeong sighed, but a smile betrayed her, “And she’s going to be so loved.”

Celine blinked the memory away as she finished wrestling Rumi into a pink shirt and long pants, the baby determined to make it a full-contact sport. She set a bucket hat with teddy-bear ears atop her purple-haired head, both for shade and anonymity. Even the pediatrician didn’t understand how Rumi’s hair could be naturally violet. Celine wasn’t about to explain.

She strapped Rumi into the carrier and stepped outside into the warm Seoul afternoon.

“See, Rumi-ya?” she muttered to the drooling, miserable baby. “It’s so nice outside. Fresh air, shining sun. Makes you want to stop crying, right?”

Celine weaved through the late afternoon crowds and through the various street vendors selling. One selling tteokbokki which made her mouth water, another searing spicy dakkochi, and finally she couldn’t help herself and stopped to buy from an older gentleman frying hotteok that smelled like her childhood.

She made her way to a park and sat down in the grass with Rumi, enjoying the sugary sweetness of the pastry while Rumi pulled at the grass with shrieking delight. But like all children, Rumi had a sixth sense for when a grown-up was eating a snack they didn’t want the kid to have, because she was suddenly very interested in watching Celine eat.

“No, Rumi-ya, you’re too young.”  Celine warned, but Rumi leaned forward, gnawing at her hand and staring at the pastry with unblinking intensity. 

“Aegiya, you don’t even have any teeth yet! How are you going to eat this?” Celine tried to reason with the six month old, but she was weak. One look in those doe-brown eyes and she tore off a tiny piece of the hotteok and offered it to Rumi, just to take a taste, “You are so spoiled.”

Celine leaned back, letting the late afternoon sun wash over her as she watched Rumi happily squeal and babble. It sounded just like music to her and it was nice. A simple afternoon like this. It pushed everything from the past few months away—her grief, her past, her fears— just for a little while. Celine pulled Rumi into her lap and sang her a little song while the baby played with her fingers. 

Eventually Rumi started fussing again, it was starting to get late anyway and Celine had only brought one bottle with her. “Alright, little one.” Celine gathered her up in her arms and strapped her into the carrier, hoping that the walk back to the house would lull her to sleep. She hummed softly and rubbed Rumi’s back trying to keep her calm. 

They were walking down the empty street to their house when Celine felt it. The unmistakable sensation that made the hair on her arms stand-up on edge. 

Please be wrong. Please be tired. Please just be paranoid. 

But she wasn’t wrong. The honmoon pulsed magenta and on the other end of the street Celine saw the tear in the barrier and the deformed clawed hand of a demon pulling its way through. 

Not here. Not now. Not with Rumi here.

She staggered back on instinct, clutching Rumi tighter. She should run. She should get her and Rumi out of here. 

The faceless demon dragged itself from the tear with a screech. Then another. And another. Each one hitting the pavement with a wet, distorted thud as they scrambled toward her on too-long limbs.

Rumi must have sensed the change. She whimpered and then began to cry, her little eyes wet and full of confusion. Panic gripped Celine’s chest. 

She was a hunter. She had a duty. 

She couldn’t let demons run free in their world. 

Celine pulled her saingemon from the honmoon in a flash of blue. She took a defensive stance, shifting her body to shield Rumi with her body. Her heart beat pounded in her ears and she trio of demons bound towards her. 

The closest demon lunged first, its sharp claws glinting in the last hint of sunlight as it swiped at Celine. But she was quicker, she swung her blade and slashed it through the demon’s torso. The creature shrieked as it flared pink and burned away. 

The second and third demon split, one to her right and the other on her left. She whipped back and forth with her saingeom extended in front of her trying to buy her and Rumi precious space. The demons kept trying to crawl closer. She was trapped. If she turned towards one, that left Rumi unprotected from the other. 

She wished Mi-yeong was her. Her jangsus could have kept the other demons from getting this close in the first place. Or Hana’s hwando could have made short work of the demon on her left. But Celine was alone. Just her, her sword, and the frantically crying baby on her chest. 

“It’s okay, Rumi.” Celine tried to comfort, “It’s okay. You’re okay.”

Celine pivoted when the second demon lunged low, swiping at her flank. With a grunt she buried her blade through its back and it disappeared in a cloud of pink dust. 

The last demon was already on her, tearing at her arm with its razor sharp claw. Celine hissed, swinging her saingeom to the demon’s neck but it ducked before making contact. 

Rumi’s terrified cries made Celine’s heart break, but it also made her hesitate. That’s when the demon took its chance and Rumi’s cries turned into a scream as the demon swiped at her face.
“NO!” Celine screamed, her saingeom dematerializing as her concentration shattered,  “You do not HURT HER.”

She recalled her sword to her hand. In a vicious arc she split the demon in a single slash, the roaring in her ears drowning out the demon’s shrieks as it dissipated into sparks of pink in the wind. 

Chest heaving, Celine ran home as quickly as she could, muttering empty reassurances to Rumi. She slammed the door behind her and immediately took Rumi out of the carrier and scanned her for any injuries. That’s when she saw it. 

A thin red line across her baby’s cheek.

It wasn’t deep, barely more than a scratch and not even bleeding, but the sight of it made Celine’s stomach drop. Her throat closed.

It might as well have been a mortal wound.

“I’m sorry, Rumi.” Celine gasped, “I’m so sorry, I’m so sorry.”

She cradled Rumi close to her chest, rocking them back and forth until both of their cries faded into gasps, and eventually only Rumi’s little whimpers. 

She wasn’t sure how long they stayed like that but she eventually pulled them up and to the kitchen where she cleaned Rumi’s scratch with a warm wash cloth and covered it with a bandage. She was covering up a cut from a demon with a silly teddy bear bandage. The entire situation was so ridiculous, if she wasn’t ready to cry she would have laughed. 

With shaking hands she rocked Rumi to sleep and pressed a gentle kiss to her brow before laying her in the crib beside the bed, “I won’t let that happen to you again, I promise.”

Chapter Text

Time didn’t pass gently for Celine. 

The days stretched like an infinite loop of bottles, and doctor’s appointments, and diaper changes and late-night lullabies. Every day felt the same; heavy and exhausting, but the months slipped by without her noticing. 

Somehow Rumi stopped being the tiny, fragile newborn that fit perfectly against Celine’s chest and became a person. A babbling, crawling, little person. Her lavender locks had grown long enough that Celine could tie some of it up in a little tuft that was so ridiculous but was one of the cutest things Celine had ever seen. 

Rumi loved music and teddy bears and loved bath time but hated being in the car. She had this entire personality developing right before her eyes. 

And she was stubborn, so stubborn. Just like Mi-yeong. If Rumi didn’t want to do something, the odds of Celine getting her to do it were laughably low.

“Rumi-ya, just try it once.” Celine coaxed gently, guiding the spoonful of pureed chicken and carrots toward Rumi, “See, it’s yummy!” Celine glanced at the label, “...well it’s food!”

Rumi whined and scrunched up her nose in disgust. Her two little hands slapping indignantly on the tray of the highchair before knocking the spoon out of Celine’s hand. 

Celine exhaled through her nose and grabbed yet another spoon from the kitchen drawer before trying again, “Okay, okay. Will you try it if I do?”

She scooped a small amount from the jar and popped it in her mouth as she forced an exaggerated smile on her face. The taste was truly awful and Rumi stared at her in unimpressed silence. 

“How do they expect babies to eat this stuff when it tastes like that!” Celine muttered, pouring out a handful of yogurt puffs on the tray. Rumi devoured them as she babbled happily. 

The almost peaceful domesticity of their days was a sharp contrast to the nights. The honmoon tears were becoming more frequent without the regular trio of hunters keeping it strong. 

Celine would tense every time the barrier pulsed magenta, alerting her to another threat. She hated leaving Rumi alone in the house but couldn’t bring her along, especially not after what happened the last time Rumi was with her. 

She wasn’t sure if the demons were getting stronger or if she was becoming weaker but she was coming home with more and more injuries from her fights. It used to be so rare she even got hit, not with Hana and Mi-yeong on her side. She would maybe get a scratch here or there if she was being too cocky and wasn’t paying attention but now she would stumble into the house most nights with a limp, or a new bruise, or another cut she needed to stitch up. 

The worst was when a particularly strong demon managed to hit her with its club she felt her shoulder pop out of its socket. She still managed to finish the horde off but she couldn’t exactly walk into a hospital and expect people to not ask questions. She may have stepped away from the spotlight but she was still famous. 

They would ask her what happened. They would ask her who did this. They would ask where the baby was. And what was she supposed to say?

So she went home and, as always, checked to make sure Rumi was okay first. She would normally breathe a sigh of relief when she would find Rumi sleeping peacefully in the crib. Only this time Rumi, standing up on wobbly legs as she held onto the crib rail. 

Her brown eyes were still foggy with sleep but as she took in Celine’s trembling form, her limp arm, the blood smeared along her collarbone. Confusion crossed her face. Worry. Then a soft, frightened whimper.

“Go back to sleep, aegiya,” Celine whispered, though her voice shook.

Rumi whimpered louder and held out her arms to be picked up.

Celine’s heart shattered. She was scaring Rumi. She looked hurt and it was scaring Rumi. 

Our faults and fears must never be seen.

The mantra rang through Celine’s head over and over and over again. She had to be strong, she had to be fine, she had to be better. For Rumi. 

She forced herself to smile and crossed the room to pick up Rumi from the crib with her good arm. She was getting heavier, almost too big for her to hold one handed, but when Rumi’s little frame melted into Celine’s hold she knew she would move mountains for Rumi. 

“Come back here, Rumi-ya!” Celine playfully yelled as she chased the toddling soon-to-be one year old around the house. Since Rumi had taken her first steps two weeks ago, Celine had discovered that her house was far less baby-proofed than she’d thought.

Rumi shrieked in delight as she “ran” away from her guardian. The game of chase ended with Celine scooping Rumi up and tickling her neck to make her giggle. She could never get tired of hearing Rumi laughing, it was brighter than sunlight. 

Celine balanced Rumi on her knee and started singing, “Gom sae mariga han jibae isseo, appa gom, eomma gom, aegi gom.” Rumi clapped happily, “Appa gomeun ddungddunghae, eomma gomeun nalssinhae, aegi gomeun neomu giyeowo!” 

The honmoon rippled in response to Celine’s voice, and she felt it pulse gently against her fingers as she brushed them through the barrier. She put Rumi down on the floor and started singing the song again. Rumi bounced up and down to the tune and then babbled back at Celine, almost like she was singing too. 

Suddenly the honmoon surged a pulse of pale blue light that unmistakably originated at Rumi. Rumi looked at the honmoon before clapping as if this was just like her stacking her blocks. 

“Can you see it?” Celine knelt down, “Do you see the honmoon?” 

Rumi regarded her for a moment before clumsily patting Celine’s nose before toddling off to play with the next shiny object that got her attention, leaving Celine kneeling on the ground in a state of disbelief. 

Later, over the phone with Eun-bi, she struggled to convey what had just happened, “Ajumoni, I swear I saw it, Rumi was singing and the honmoon responded! Just like it does for all of us, and she was looking at it too! She can see it, I mean I always kind of thought she could but I thought I was just imagining things.”

“She can’t even talk yet and you’re telling me she is singing?” 

“You don’t need words to sing!” Bokhee, one of the other mentors, called out on the other side of the phone, “Birds can sing, and wind can sing through the trees”

“Always the poetry from you, Bokhee…” Eun-bi muttered teasingly, “Celine, why don’t you just come back to Jeju and show us. It’s Rumi-ya’s birthday next week and it would be nice to see the little one again. She looks like she’s getting so big from the photos you sent.”

It was Rumi’s birthday next week.

Celine hadn’t even realized. Of course she realized. She knew that Rumi was going to be twelve months old next week, just like she turned another month older on the 23rd of every month, but she had never really thought about the fact that October 23rd was Rumi’s birthday. 

“Celine-ah?” Eun-bi repeated, “Are you still there?”

“Yes…yes, that sounds like a good idea.” 

“Oh hooray!” Bokhee cheered, “I’ll go tell Jeong, we can have a party for her!”

Celine nodded, even though she knew nobody could see her. How had she not planned anything for Rumi’s birthday? 

“Celine?” Eun-bi’s voice was gentler now, “Are you alright?”

“Yes.” She lied,  swallowing hard, “I’ll see you next week.”

She hung up, sunk down the wall, and buried her head in her hands. 

How had it been an entire year since Mi-yeong died?

“Saeng-il Chuk-ha-ham-ni-da! Saeng-il Chuk-ha-ham-ni-da! Sa-rang-ha-neun Rumi-ssi. Saeng-il Chuk-ha-ham-ni-da!” 

Everyone clapped when the song finished and Celine helped blow out the candle on Rumi’s birthday cake.

The party had been small; just Celine, Rumi, and the three mentors. Eun-bi told Celine she really had to reel in Bokhee and Jeong’s excitement because they had basically wanted to invite the entire island and then some. 

Rumi unceremoniously picked up the little cake and tried to take a bite out of it whole, getting frosting all over her nose and cheeks. 

“So much for sharing, Rumi-ya.” Bokhee chided playfully, swiping some of the frosting from Rumi’s little nose, “Good thing I always have extra cake.” 

Celine helped her open the monstrous amount of presents her mentors had wrapped for Rumi. 

“You never bring her around! Of course we’re going to spoil her when you do.” Jeong announced proudly as she handed another beautifully wrapped box to Rumi. Inside was a brown stuffed bear wearing a sweater with a choo-choo train on it. Rumi squealed happily and hugged it.

“She sure does love teddy bears.” Celine mused, pressing a kiss to Rumi’s crown, “Thank you all for making Rumi’s birthday so special.” 

“Of course! We’re thrilled you could come on such short notice.” Jeong beamed. “We invited Hana too, but, oh, she’s just so busy these days. Second album, concert tour… I don’t know how she’s doing it all alone, but she’s thriving.”

Celine stiffened at the mention of Hana and Eun-bi discreetly patted her leg. A reminder to not say anything, a promise that they would talk about it later. 

“Yes, she’s certainly got herself  a packed schedule. Though I wish you had run it by me that you were trying to invite her, I wouldn’t have wanted to make her feel guilty for not being able to make it.” Eun-bi said, trying to make it clear to Celine that inviting Hana hadn’t been her idea. 

“Nonsense! Hana is family,” Jeong insisted, oblivious to the tightening of Celine’s jaw,  “I’m sure her present for Rumi-ya is already in the mail.”

“Speaking of family,” Bokhee handed another present to Celine to open. 

Tearing away the paper she found a photo album. She opened the cover and froze.

It was pictures of Mi-yeong.

Photos from her childhood that Celine had no idea how Bokhee even got a hold of. Photos from magazines, concerts, award shows. There were even a few unflattering candids from the paparazzi. 

Mi-yeong smiling, laughing, singing. She was so beautiful. 

She was so alive.

Celine turned the page and saw photos of Hana, Mi-yeong, and herself. 

“Eomma!” Rumi chirped, pointed straight at the photo of Celine. 

The silence in the room was thick enough to cut with a blade. Celine felt like the air had been sucked out of her chest. She couldn’t breathe. 

“No, Rumi, that’s your eomma.” Celine pointed to Mi-yeong with a shaky finger, “I’m…I’m Celine.”

Rumi’s little brows scrunched in confusion as she looked between the photo and Celine, like she was trying to solve some kind of puzzle.

“...Ce…Ce?” Rumi repeated

“Yes, aegiya. I’m Cece.”

Rumi’s first sugar rush ended abruptly. She fell asleep mid-play, face smushed against her new teddy bear. Celine carried her to the crib, stroked her hair when she stirred, and waited until her breathing deepened.

Then she slipped outside. 

She needed quiet. 

She needed some air.

She needed her. 

“-and she had cake all over her face.” Celine murmured as she knelt in front of the gravestone, “She’s a messy eater, just like you.”

She laughed softly, “She gets this little pouty lip when I tell her no. That’s probably why she has about a thousand stuffed animals. She loves dancing and singing.”

Her smile faded and she moved closer, sitting beside the stone.

“You would love her,” She whispered, “You…you would have been so good at this. You should still be here. You wouldn’t have forgotten to plan a birthday for her. You would have known what she needed. I wish you could have watched her grow up. You should be the one she calls eomma.”

Celine rested her head against the gravestone, tears gathering hot behind her eyes. 

“I miss you.”