Chapter Text
I’m sure you’ve heard of the old tale. The one about presents and Christmas. There’s many different versions. Some talk about elves. Others about a big jolly man.
But some, just some, know the truth. Experienced it firsthand. Saw the magic with their very eyes.
And it begins with a simple letter.
Rumi is a very privileged person. She relishes this fact. Loves the perks that come with being the daughter of her parents’ very successful postal conglomerate. Ryu Post Corporation.
She doesn’t love having to be in this stupid camp. She wants to go back home. To her bed. And silk sheets. And snacks. She has none of that here. They expect her to have to do all this postman stuff like casting boxes and riding horses and..ugh, pigeons handling.
If she were seven, this would be everything she ever wanted. But she’s not seven anymore. The wonderful magic of postal delivery doesn’t exist at twenty three.
So she’ll choose to lie back in her specially made tent and skip her duties until her parents finally give up.
“A message from the top, cadet Rumi.”
“Who is it?” Rumi rubs her eyes before studying the figure at the entrance of her tent. “Oh Carol, so nice to see you darling, looking strong as ever.”
“That’s drill sergeant to you. You’re supposed to be in equestrian training. I had to look all over for you.”
“Yeah, riding horses isn’t really my thing.”
Carol, the corporation’s top drill sergeant, scowls at Rumi. Without saying another word, she pulls out a letter from her inside coat pocket, holding it out for Rumi to take.
“What’s that? Are you finally asking me out?” No response, no reaction at all. “Humor me a little, Carol.” Again nothing. She’s really posed off today, huh? “Fine, guess I’ll open it.”
Rumi opens the letter.
To Rumi Ryu.
You have been selected to be dispatched. Please proceed to the CEO’s office to receive your full assignment.
Congrats on becoming a postman.
Ryu Post Corporation
“No, no, this can’t be right.” Rumi grips the paper tight as she tries to make sense of what this could mean. Wait. “Oh. Oh, I know what’s happening. About time.” Rumi stands up, stretching (paying no mind to Carol’s personal space). “Well, let’s go Carol.”
Carol escorts Rumi to the top office, where her parents, Mi-Yeong and Celine, do all of their work. The room is large and spacious, with high ceilings and tall bookshelves filled with all sorts of things. In the center, a large map of all the postal offices they own, and then some.
On the desk sits a framed drawing Rumi made when she was seven. Embarrassing. Mi-Yeong sits at the desk doing paperwork. She hums quietly with a soft smile. Celine looks out the large window at the end of the room. She stands tall, hands clasped behind her back and with a stern expression. She’s probably observing the training below.
“Thank you, Carol. You’re free to go.” Celine’s as serious and observant as ever. No one said a word, and she already knew who was at the door. She turns around, making eye contact with Rumi. “Come here.”
Rumi approaches. As she does so, both her parents stop what they’re doing to take a seat across from her. A classic family meeting.
“Let’s take a minute to review how your training has gone so far. Mi-Yeong?” Mi-Yeong opens a drawer and takes out a purple folder. How nice. Told you she’s special.
“Sorting and filing, failed. Transport of fragile items, terrible. Pigeon handling, not applicable.”
“Is that what it says?”
“They had to make a new one for Ru.”
Celine rolls her eyes. Rumi continues to sit quietly, as she waits for the news she thinks she’s getting.
“She’s failed or scored terribly in everything.” She summarizes with disappointment drenched all over it.
“Well,” Rumi says after a sigh,“I gave it a shot, right? Sucks. I really wanted this to be it.”
“Rumi.”
“Oh well, I guess I’ll have to go home and think of something else to do.”
“Rumi.” Celine tries again.
“You still buy those ramyeon cups right? ‘Cause they really help me think.”
“Rumi! Listen to your mother!” Mi-Yeong’s voice echoes in the large room, scaring Rumi into silence. She’s about to get scolded bad.
“You’ve had no motivation to do anything since you’ve graduated. You promised you would try working here.”
“And I did!” Rumi tried to defend herself. Her parents always see right through her lies. “I just don’t feel it.”
“We said we’ll always support you.” Mi-Yeong chimes in. “And we will. You used to wanna be a singer, right? What happened to that?” Clearly, her parents are trying to play good cop bad cop.
“Reality hit, Eomma. It’s not happening.” Rumi says, crossing her arms and leaning back in her chair. She’s done with this conversation. “I just need time to find the right thing.”
“I am not going to watch you purposely fail, just so you can hide out and not do anything with your life.” Celine again. And jeez, could you be any more harsh? She stands up, grabbing a little flag from the desk. “Congratulations, Rumi. You are now a postman.”
“…Wait what?”
“You will be in charge of your very own post office.” Celine walks to the big map. She traces the point of the flag along the centerpiece as she walks, very slowly. “You will be stationed in…” She keeps walking. “In…” She reaches the end of the table, and sticks the flag in a tiny island off the coast of the mainland. “Smeerensburg.”
Rumi blinks twice. Smeerensburg? Where the hell is that? She’s never heard of the place, and she’s being sent to work there?
“What are you-“
“You have one year.”
“A YEAR?!”
“You need to establish a working post office there. I’ll need at least 6000 letters.” Her mom must’ve gone insane. There’s no way. “And Rumi, if you fail to do this simple thing for me,” Celine strides back over to Rumi, making sure to say this straight to her face. “We’re cutting you off. No more easy life for you. I suggest you take this seriously if you don’t want to end up on the streets.”
Okay, they’re serious. Very serious. And this is about to be the worst year of her life. She looks to Mi-Yeong for help. Some sort of silver lining.
“Honey, you’re going to do great things. We just need you to figure it out.”
That is the opposite of a silver lining for Rumi. She’s referring to her patterns. Special markings all over her body that she was born with. Only happens once every hundred years or some bull. Means a person is destined for greatness. Well not her. And she’s tired of being constantly reminded of it.
“Your cart is waiting downstairs. I suggest you get going before it gets dark.” Celine doesn’t look like she’s changing her mind anytime soon. Or ever.
So Rumi reluctantly gets up, and trudges to the door, hands in pockets.
As soon as the door shuts, Celine plops into her seat next to her wife. She rubs her temples as Mi-Yeong squeezes her shoulders.
“I know we wanted to teach her a lesson, but…isn’t Smeerensburg a bit much?” Celine squeezes her partner’s leg.
“She needs a wake up call. I think she’ll be fine.”
Downstairs, Rumi exits the front door expecting her usual cart and driver. Instead, she finds an old, rundown wooden cart pulled by a single horse. Not even the good ones she knows they have in the stables. Like a reject postal horse.
She is not fine.