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1.
When she first arrived two months ago, her father was there, right at her side. He helped her explore and settle into this country that was so unknown to her, even if she knew that her grandparents used to live here, she only knows of their stories. She knew the language decently enough, though her reading skills far surpassed her speaking.
She wasn't afraid back then, she may be young and naive, but she wasn't alone.
Now though, she lives at her favourite idol's home, Celine was the one to invite her in as a trainee; Zoey barely understood what the honmoon was, or what her role might be, because what do you mean demons are real and you're a hunter using your idol career as a front? But Celine is a Sunlight Sister, of course she trusts her.
Her father had to leave her eventually though, having his own life to get back to. Zoey thought she'd be okay with it, after all, she's fifteen, most teenagers would thrive with the level of independence she got.
But she would be lying if she said that she didn't miss them, or her home, the streets that saw her grow. She didn't really have friends in her old school, her classmates thought she was weird, too loud, too obnoxious, always rambling on about something or the other. She never really had a place to belong.
Presently, though, Zoey has her new team mates—Mira and Rumi were here before she arrived, so they already got along well.
Mira sort of intimidates her, seemingly a bit direct and blunt from the short conversations she's had with her. The girl did laugh at one of her poorly translated turtle jokes though, so she takes it as a win.
Rumi was the one to approach her, and the girl was genuinely excited to meet her. Zoey was bouncing off the walls at their first meeting, after all she's Miyeong's daughter; the girl is a legend in her own right. Although she did sense some sort of unease coming off her, overall, she was more open than she thought she'd be.
To her dismay, though, the language barrier had made it difficult for them. Rumi can speak some basic English, and Zoey tried answering back in the Korean she knew, but the conversations usually died out pretty quickly, her stuttered speech preventing any further attempts. Moments like that make her second guess if this is a place for her.
Another thing she didn't expect to miss, speaking in her native tongue. She's proud to be a Korean American, and English was what her parents first taught her. She misses how easily she was able to express herself. Celine has had her studying Korean everyday since moving in, sometimes sitting in with her during her afternoon studies, but still, she struggles to articulate herself.
It's eight at night here, meaning that according to her watch that's still set to California's time, it's four in the morning for her parents. She shouldn't wake them for such a childish reason.
She knows that Mira and Rumi are at some convenience store nearby for a late night snack run. She didn't join them, she couldn't tonight, not having the energy to try and translate their faster paced speech.
Instead, she wanders around the grounds of the estate, trying to clear her head. The early autumn weather is crisp, the wind has a biting chill that she feels through the thick jacket she's wearing. Her feet lead her along the garden's pathway.
At the end of it is Celine, stooped low, sickle in hand as she cleans up a patch of flowers from wild growing weeds; it's near to an old, branching tree.
"Zoey," her idol-turned mentor greets, "I didn't know you stayed in."
Celine speaks to her in English, something she is grateful for. During their training sessions, Celine mixes her use of both languages, which have been helping her adapt. At night, when she's dismissed them, she always reverts to English when speaking to her. It's not something she ever asked the woman to do, but she does so anyway.
"Uh, yeah I wasn't really in the mood, I guess." Zoey shifts on the balls of her feet, not yet meeting Celine's gaze.
Celine sets down her tool, stretching as she straightens herself. Her eyes glance over her, searching her features.
"Do you wish to talk about it?" she asks.
Zoey is about to shake her head, but quickly changes her mind.
"I miss home." A mix of melancholic sadness settled in her mind. It's not like she's lost who she is, and yet, here in a country that's not truly hers, she feels not fully herself.
Like water overflowing a cup, she releases all of her thoughts. It took one spilled droplet to let her feelings out.
She tells Celine that she misses the life that she did have back with her father, even if she never felt complete. That she misses the warm air of California, the diverse culture of the people around her. Korea felt more like a monolith, everyone dressing the same, with all these societal rules that she has yet to properly grasp. The cultural differences are much greater than she had expected them to be. Not to mention how excluded she feels around the girls, even if it is unintentional, and done largely by her own self.
"Life is much different here, isn't it?" Celine responds with.
"Yeah, I guess I'm just overwhelmed a bit."
The woman nods, and looks back at the flowers she was nurturing,
"Sometimes, the best way to grow is to change your environment. Look at these begonias," she bends down, rubbing her fingers over the blossoming petals, "they weren't thriving until I moved them near to this tree's shade." She straightens again.
"It's normal to miss what once was, Zoey, but I know that you belong here. In time you will find your place to bloom."
Celine turns to face her, hand outstretched, gently holding her own, reassuring in a way she didn't know she needed. A thumb absentmindedly brushes over her knuckles, a simple gesture that Zoey didn't expect. Mere months ago, she would've freaked out at the idea of even standing so close to her idol, now, though, in the short time she has known her, it feels so natural.
"There's something great inside of you—in all of you girls." There's a genuine sense of pride coming from her mentor.
"And I know it's difficult to connect with Rumi and Mira, but trust me, they want to know you as well."
That's not something she ever heard growing up, none of her peers ever wished to understand her.
"They've been studying English for you; both of them want you here, just as much as I do." The corners of her lips turn upwards, Zoey blushes at those words.
"And I see the effort you're putting in, your Korean has improved."
Well now she thinks the woman is lying, she still stutters and pauses every time she tries to speak.
As if reading her mind, Celine reiterates, "It is improving, you respond to my questions without me prompting you." There's genuine sincerity in her voice.
Damn, this woman is persuasive.
"Thanks Celine," Zoey feels much lighter now, beaming under her sentiments. Reaching over, she quickly hugs the woman, but before Celine can react, she steps out of it.
"You know, you were my bias growing up."
A quiet chuckle comes from her mentor, "Are you sure you're not just saying that to get out of the early morning run?"
"Okay, fine, you all were my biases, I couldn't pick one!" Her heart felt lighter, for once.
They stayed and chatted in the garden, the cold air no longer bothering her, the warmth that her mentor brought easily wrapping around the two. Both sit under the moonlight waiting for Mira and Rumi's return—and for the first time, she initiates the conversation between them. Celine was right, she does belong here with them.
2.
She knows she shouldn't have picked up the phone when that number showed up, but Mira was curious; it's been a little over four months since her mother last attempted to contact her and she was feeling hopeful. Maybe she would understand her, maybe she would see that she had the talents, the skills for the stage.
Of course she was proven wrong almost immediately when she started complaining about how bad of a daughter she was, how her dancing could only get her so far, how her brother was so much easier to deal with.
Is it so wrong of her to wish that her parents would care? To show any ounce of pride in her? She was their daughter damn it. Is it not their job to love her?
She nearly throws her phone against the wall in anger. She didn't, it was the third phone Celine bought her that month.
It's well past midnight, the moon shining dimly through the curtains. The girls, Celine, and Bobby are currently in Japan, one of their first official stops as a newly debuted group. They were supposed to already be sleeping—preparing for their long day tomorrow; Celine booked them to appear on the morning radio station, followed by a performance in the local mall and an interview later in the evening. She should be sleeping.
Unease took captive of her mind, what if her parents were right? Was she really not as good as she thought she was? But that couldn't be right either, she was chosen, by the honmoon and a Sunlight Sister member no less. And yet, she couldn't shake those thoughts from running rampant. Tears of frustration quickly form, but she forces them back. It wouldn't be good if her eyes were swollen and her face became puffy.
Closing her eyes, Mira tries just laying in bed, maybe sleep would take over, but when was she ever lucky. She feels too tense, the beginnings of a headache pulsing at her temples.
Might as well get this energy out in some way, she thinks, making her way to the shared kitchen of the rental house in search of something to snack on.
The warm yellow lights are still on, dimly shining over another person's form. It takes a moment for her eyes to adjust, but there she sees her mentor. Her back is turned to Mira, sitting on a barstool with various documents, her laptop and a mug full of tea atop the counter. She should've known that Celine would've been awake, that woman never seems to rest.
Mira's steps falter, she shouldn't let her teacher see her like this. Luck really isn't on her side tonight though, as it's impossible to get past Celine's hunter instincts.
The older woman shifts, an impassive look settles on her face as she lifts her reading glasses to rest on her hair. Her eyes pass over her, studying her appearance.
"Something's bothering you."
Celine doesn't mince her words, something both have in common, but for once Mira wishes that her mentor would.
Should she lie to her? Celine knows very well of Mira's situation, having fought tooth and nail to get her to debut in the first place. But then again, it's not something she likes speaking about, especially not to the one authority figure she actually still respects.
Celine doesn't pressure her, though, simply waiting, closing her laptop and neatening the files.
"My mother called," is what she settles with.
"And you answered."
Mira nods, hands loosely clasping and unclasping in front of her.
Celine pulls out the stool next to her, motioning for Mira to sit. She then goes to reheat the kettle. The only noise between them comes from Celine, who grabs a green tea packet and an empty mug. Neither says anything until the water's boiled and a steaming cup slides in front of Mira. She sees her mentor sit, not quite facing her, from the corner of her eye.
Mira expects her to ask if she wants to talk about it, but instead she hears,
"Are you okay?"
Is she? She isn't too sure what she's feeling beneath the anger. She thinks she wants to run away from this conversation, though, not willing to confront all her emotions. That would mean vulnerability; vulnerability with a woman that Mira wants nothing more to do but impress.
But she does, because Celine's presence is reassuring and steady, and even under the incredibly high walls the older hunter has built, Mira hears the genuine care in the question.
She thinks she is hurt, more than anything by her mother's words, a deep emptiness that weighed her down. A throb of unsaid feelings tugging at her heart. Her parents' standards are incredibly absurd, something so unattainable to her. They tried moulding her to become the "perfect" daughter, but everything she desired screamed exactly opposite of those expectations. Mira knows she became her family's disappointment, always the angry daughter.
But she doesn't know how to say that to the woman sitting in front of her, so instead she says, "No."
She realises that there are no words that can fully describe what she feels about her parents; her mother is the one to instigate their arguments, and her father just sits back, always supporting his wife, never listening to her side of the story.
She wants to love them, the childish desires inside her still might, but they make it so impossible for her.
With each passing thought comes another blow to her heart. Her jaw clenches, knuckles gripped white against the edge of the stool.
A strong hand finds the small of her back, rubbing circles over the fabric of her shirt. The touch is unexpected, Mira didn't even know she still craved this sort of consolation. The dam holding back the flood of emotions finally breaks at the gesture.
"Why can't they just support me? Why even have me to begin with! They were so much happier when it was just them and their son." She snaps, speaking with an acrid tone.
Mira turns, facing away from Celine, she knows it's rude, but she still doesn't want her to see the tears that are now falling. This is all too much for her, she's letting her faults and fears show.
Instead of pulling away, or reprimanding her, the hand on her back slowly moves up and down the length of her spine, soothing the shaking sobs that come from her. The touch being so motherly, a gentleness exuding from the hunter. Sure, she bandaged her wounds before, took care of her needs in the time they've lived together, but comfort of this magnitude was something Celine so rarely gave out, and most of the time it was directed towards Rumi.
Mira hears a small sigh escape from the woman.
"Your parents can be...difficult, yes," she pauses, as though searching for something to say.
"Sometimes, the best thing you can do for yourself is to leave your past behind."
"But how…they're my parents."
"When my group disbanded, and I was left to raise Rumi alone, I chose to leave Seoul, to leave my old company, to leave behind everyone and everything I knew." Another stretch of silence.
Mira knows the story, it was one of the biggest scandals in pop culture. She also knows that the third Sunlight Sister disappeared from the spotlight, leaving Celine to deal with the aftermath.
"I did what I thought I needed to do to protect Rumi."
"Do you regret it?" Mira shifts, finally letting the older woman see her.
"No, for Rumi, I'd do it all over again." There's the smallest hint of hesitation in her voice, something Mira wouldn't have picked up if she wasn't so closely paying attention, but the words true ring with conviction.
Mira still doesn't know if she's ready to give up on her family.
Celine's hand moves to rest on her shoulder, gently, yet firmly gripping on, grounding her before she loses herself again.
"Get some rest Mira."
The tears on her face dry, her tea remains untouched; there's still some uncertainty festering inside of her, but she feels a little better. She goes to sleep slightly less burdened.
3.
Rumi has been feeling anxious all day. It's Huntrix's fifth day of being on break after yet another comeback, but currently, she felt anything but relaxed.
She should have known that the media wouldn't have easily let go of that stunt they pulled at the idol awards, even if it was all spontaneous and out of their control. Some of the more distasteful reports all say that Huntrix was the cause of the Saja Boys' sudden disbandment, that they were the ones suspected of foul play. Journalists and reporters kept flooding their fan signings, following them after interviews, even going as far as patrolling near the penthouse in hopes of catching sight of them.
It's been months, don't they know how to move on?
But she also knows that she shouldn't care, after all she and her girls rebuilt the honmoon, even if the media is unaware of it. She saved their lives. That alone should bring her a greater sense of peace. Bobby has stepped up their securities, increasing their number of body guards. He's advised them not to make any more statements.
And yet, the image of the group falls on her as their leader. How could she not do something about this?
She feels the buzz of anxiety deep in her chest, a knot of restless energy welling up inside her. Rumi has tried every trick she knows, all the breathing exercises Celine taught her, sparring with the girls, even playing with Derpy, but nothing was helping.
Rumi was deeply aware of everything. Every beat of her sporadic heart, every gasping breath, every shake in her aching limbs.
Spots formed in the corners of her eyes, Rumi nearly fell to the floor when, quicker than her tired brain could process, she found herself in a completely new location. Right, she can teleport now.
Her skin prickled, cold air brushing against it, she hears the sharp intake of air and the sound of porcelain meeting tile.
"Rumi? How did—What are you doing here?"
Oh, it seems in her state of panic her body searched for Celine.
That's not unfamiliar, Celine has been her fortress, her only support for so long, even when the woman couldn't fully accept her. They've been doing better, Celine has since been trying to be more open and Rumi is just grateful to even have her after all they've been through.
But she didn't think she was ready to be this vulnerable in front of her. At least not yet. She thinks she's cried enough for the year in front of the woman.
"Hi Celine," is all her shaking voice can manage before her chest starts aching again.
Calloused fingers find Rumi's exposed arms, rubbing them up and down. She doesn't realise how cold she feels until then, neither is she aware of how her shoulders slightly tremble.
"Let's get you inside first."
She's barely aware of when Celine slipped a hand into hers, of them moving from the gardens; Celine so effortlessly takes the lead. Rumi simply closes her eyes and lets the woman guide her.
Hands gently press Rumi down, she feels the plush of a bed underneath her, and a dip in the mattress next to her. When she's regained her bearings, she opens her eyes to see that they're now in Celine's room.
Gentle fingers touch the curve of her cheek.
"What's wrong my little hunter?"
Tears threatened to fall, a pressure waiting to be released. Celine lifts Rumi's face to look her in the eyes.
"The media—they're still trying to find a reason to stir up drama." Her hands stretch and unstretch, sharp nails digging into softer palms. "Why can't they get over it? We've released as many statements as we could already, but they keep harassing us!"
She feels her throat tightening again, it takes all her willpower to fight against the blurring of tears threatening to overflow.
Rumi hears another sharp intake of breath.
"The media is ruthless, they don't see idols as humans. All we are to them is entertainment, a means for a paycheck." Celine replies, hints of malice seeping out of her tone, as she carefully peels back Rumi's tense fingers.
She feels her guardian massage at the crescent shaped indents left in her palms.
"Bobby has been keeping me informed, don't worry tiger, we have it handled."
Rumi's jaw twitches, how can she not worry.
As if sensing her displeasure, Celine replies, "I've been talking with my legal team, the press won't have a chance."
Thinking for a moment, Rumi continues, "was it like this after mom..."
Silence stretches out between them for a few seconds, Rumi feels the hesitation from Celine when she pauses from the hand massage. This topic is a sore spot for both, they've talked about it somewhat, but she still avoids bringing her up.
"The funeral was a war zone," the older woman mutters. This time, Rumi is the one to look into the eyes of her guardian.
"I was the one left to deal with the insistent reporters, paparazzi followed my every move. There was not one moment where I was left alone to myself. They kept trying to turn my grief into a neatly packaged story to tell." Celine bites those last words out, letting her anger flow with them.
Rumi remembers a time when she was young, snooping around Celine's room when the woman wasn't looking. She found a pile of newspaper clippings hidden away in her desk, each surrounding the death of the star singer, Ryu Miyeong. She remembers seeing a blurry black and white image of Celine at the funeral folded in the back of the pile.
"Some pictures of you leaked in the aftermath," her guardian pauses, taking another steadying breath, "and that's when I snapped. It took a long time to fight for those photos to be removed."
That, she did not know.
Part of her knew that in the days after, Celine would've had a difficult time, but she had never fully considered the extent of it. Celine taught her everything she knew, she raised her to be a leader. But now, she realises that most of those lessons were as a result of living through such a traumatic experience.
She doesn't press the conversation further, Celine has a tendency of shutting down when she's too lost in her memories, something Rumi picked up from her.
"I just want to make our fans happy."
Teardrops fall from her eyes, landing on the back of Celine's hands. She's unaware of when they started, only notices them when Celine gently swipes her thumb on the rounds of her cheeks.
It takes that one simple gesture to have her completely undone. Rumi gives in to her crying and melts under the hands of her guardian. She feels Celine's hand move from her face, only to wrap tightly around her, squeezing her in an embrace. Rumi lets herself sob into the woman who is not quite her mother, but right now, Celine is all that she needs.
The pressure behind her eyes slowly lets up, the buzz beneath her skin also disappears. Celine holds her together even as her sobs slow, feeling safe under the arms that always protected her.
+1
Spring has come again, painting the world in its wondrous hues. The season of rebirth, of new beginnings. A time where life seems to be celebrated, the chill of the oppressive winters passed by. Survival.
This season of flowers coincides with the Sunlight Sisters debut date. Thirty years since that fateful day. A cause for a celebration.
A horrible reminder of all that's been lost. On the morning of her thirtieth debut anniversary, Celine dreads getting out of bed. Facing the world on this date has always been a challenge, but this year especially so. She wishes the day could just come and go with a blink of her eyes, she wants to ignore it completely, but this year she just couldn't.
In the past week alone she has been bombarded with various calls and emails asking for her to do special appearances, radios, or event stages. Her own company asked if she wanted to release a special cover to commemorate.
And she gets it, this is an important day, thirty years in this industry is no easy feat, but all she wants to do is disappear from the spotlight. She won't, she has her students to consider, an image to maintain; that doesn't stop her wishing though.
So she settles with a statement, thanking her fans for staying at her side after all these years, making vague promises that they'll see her at some point in the future. It's all for formalities sake, and while she does truly love her fans, the ones that still remained after all these years, she also doesn't know how much more she can take. The very few public appearances she does each year always seem to drain her.
Celine has been awake for over an hour now, her body clings to the bed like it's a lifeline. She needs to get up, face the day, and actually live. Time waits for no-one unfortunately, not even for the woman who single handedly strengthened the honmoon for well over a decade.
After a lifetime of scrolling on her phone, she finally turns it off and forces herself out from under her covers. The idea of getting ready for the day already sounds draining, but she's promised the girls that she'd stop by for a late lunch. Honestly, she really didn't want anyone to see her today, but Rumi was so insistent, and she couldn't say no to her little tiger.
She takes a little extra time to herself, trying to still the ache in her heart. Celine doesn't care much for makeup anymore, especially not in front of the girls, but she might as well use some today, at least it makes her feel more human.
A text from Rumi gets her out her thoughts,
Hey Celine! Are you still down for today?
The timestamp tells her it's almost been twenty minutes past the meeting time. Shit, she's late, how did she not notice. A quick text is sent back before she finishes getting ready and rushing out the door. It's not like Celine to ever be late, it's unprofessional, something she always modelled to the girls.
It takes another fifteen minutes to finally reach their penthouse. She feels as though she must drag herself to the top floor, tiredness clinging to her body. Her debut date always leaves her feeling so, too many memories surrounding it.
The lights are off when she opens the door, no sounds can be heard. That's odd, why would Rumi text her to come over and yet not be home?
She makes her way around the entrance, her instincts tell her something's up, the hunter in her keeps her guard high. Creeping towards the kitchen, making her steps light, she hears the slight shift of feet on tile, a small giggle comes from behind the counter. Her age must finally be catching up to her, she should've noticed from the unnatural stillness.
"Happy debut date!" Confetti thrown her way, Zoey surprising her with an embrace at her side. Mira brings out a cake from behind her back, candles lit and waiting for her wish. Rumi snakes her arms around her from behind, brushing off the confetti stuck to her clothes, before enclosing her in a hug. Her girls are all around her, and for the first time all day, she feels like she's not alone.
Thirty years ago, three young girls sought out to change the world, they played their part, and protected all that they've loved. Thirty years have passed, Celine stands as the only Sunlight Sister left, the one to remain in the aftermath of it all. She's fought everyday of her life, somehow living to see this moment.
"Well, are you going to make a wish?" Rumi says, hooking her chin over her shoulder.
Tears prick at her eyes, "Everything I need is right here."
"Aww, Celine, when did you get so sappy," Zoey says from her side.
"Come on, the candles are gonna melt," Mira continues, though there's a soft smile on her face.
Celine closes her eyes, thinking back to those once beautiful memories, the first time the three meet, their first spars, their first song. All the hours they spent holed up in their dingy practice room. Yes, the years to come weren't so kind to her, but for those faithful moments, she had her members right beside her, she wasn't alone. That loss may forever be ingrained into her, but that love is not forgotten. The Sunlight Sisters made her into who she is, she'll never regret knowing them.
Every heartache, every tear she's spilt, the injuries from standing on her own, all her failures from the years past by, each coming back to her. Days she spent wishing otherwise, hoping that the tides of time would rewind, even for a moment—nothing could've prepared her for the life she's now living.
"You deserve this, you know—after everything you've done for the honmoon, for us." Rumi says, squeezing her arms around her waist. Her sweet girl, always knowing what she's thinking.
Zoey nods from her other shoulder, "you really do Celine, and I'm not just saying that as a fan.”
And it's true, today she stands not alone, the generation she's raised close beside her; they've done their duty well. The new honmoon is proof of it. Her life has changed so drastically in those thirty years, she's made so many mistakes and hurt those she's loved. Yet she is here, still surrounded by their love.
She blows the candles out, today she'll celebrate, remembering everything that brought her to this point.
The flowers have bloomed, winter has passed, and she has survived.