Chapter Text
She begs Mira and Zoey not to leave her, her voice raw and tight with fear and the weight of every lie she’d ever told.
The begging isn’t enough, it’s never been enough.
She can still see their faces in her mind illuminated by the pale glow of their weapons, poised at her rotten heart.
And so she runs. She runs to the only other person who can fix what she keeps breaking.
Celine face crumples when Rumi asks her. She thinks about how she has failed Rumi her entire life. And if she can do anything, she will grant Rumi her one wish.
She takes the blade, she cuts, but it’s not deep enough. Rumi will suffer, it won’t be quick. Celine cannot bring herself to cut again.
It’s just another way she fails Rumi.
She failed her Mi-Yeong. She failed herself. She is so sorry. She leaves her ruined on the ground.
-----
Rumi crawls to her mother's shrine. Her palms grazing the cracks of the stone. It was smooth from years of devotion, but mercilessly cold. There is soot against her palm where incense was burned. She lets the ash coat her fingers before laying back against it.
“Did you know you’d curse me like this? Did you think I was strong enough? I tried, Umma, I tried until it broke me.”
Anger rose sharp in her throat, hot enough to sting. Rumi pressed her palms flat against the wet earth as if she could shove her curse down and give it back to her mother.
“I just wanted you to be proud. But I ruined everything.”
It’s not fast. Red bubbles at the corners of her mouth, and she hiccups on blood and chokes on her sobs.
The blood was so hot but now as it cools, dries, and flakes she begins to feel as chilled as the stone.
-----
All Mira can feel is pain, the weight of another body against hers, and exhaustion that settles in her bones.
Rumi, where is Rumi? They reach into the honmoon, searching for her presence but are met with a creeping silence. The weight of her exhaustion was nothing compared to the hollow crushing in her chest.
No, don’t leave. Don’t leave! I can still fix it!
Her words haunted them.
Zoey's finger twitch, feeling the phantom shin-kals like a burn. The same ones she had raised like a barrier to her best friend like she was a rabid dog to be held off.
A girl they love so much, they banished her like the monster she felt she was.
Her eyes were wild and frantic, they shined with desperation. Begging to not be left behind.
Rumi knees scraped raw against the concrete as she turned to Zoey, reaching out like a lifeline. She could help, she would help convince Mira that she was good.
“Zoey, please”
But the glow of their weapons bathed her in cold starlight. And Zoey saw it the moment it happened, the moment her hope slipped away.
Rumi’s expression didn’t twist with anger or collapse with grief. It just…fell. Surrender was carved into her features.
It wasn’t sadness.
It wasn’t rage.
It was resignation.
Our faults and fears must never be seen. It’s what was drilled and drilled and drilled into them. It clicks.
Celine’s last words to the Mira and Zoey were ‘I’m so sorry’. It’s then that they realize that the words were not for them, they were for Rumi. The realization tore through them like glass, leaving only the desperate need to move. To find her before it was too late.
The honmoon is whole again, but it feels sour with mourning. Mira’s stomach turns, bile rising in her throat. Zoey’s chest constricts until she can barely breathe.
Please please please Rumi, I’m sorry. We're so sorry. We were scared, we didn’t understand.
They find her slumped against her mother's shrine. Red soaks her chin, her neck, and clothes. Her eyes are closed and she is so still.
Zoey is the first to react. A strangled scream leaves her as she runs. Mira stands frozen. She is going to be sick. She had wielded her gok-do at Rumi. She pushed her away. She did this. The world tilted, threatening to crush her.
Celine might have cut her flesh, but Mira and Zoey severed her heart long before that.
“No no no, please no no.” Zoey cradles Rumi’s limp head with trembling hands. She wipes at her mouth helplessly, as if she could undo it.
“Come on Rumi, don’t do this to us. We're sorry, were so sorry.”
And they are sorry, they will be sorry for the rest of their lives for sending her away.
She screams for Mira. “MIRA DO SOMETHING, PLEASE! she begs. She begs like Rumi begged them.
Mira’s mouth is dry and there is a ringing in her ears, but she finds the strength to take a step, and then another towards her girls. Grief slices through the air.
And that’s when she sees it. A faint rise and a faltering fall of Rumi’s chest.
She doesn’t mean to, but she shoves Zoey back, who falls with a cry. She scrambles and claws at Miras hands. She is desperate to anchor herself back to the blood-soaked shell in front of her.
But Mira is stronger, she always has been.
“Zoey, wait!” Voice breaking.
Zoey holds still and then sees the shuttered rise and fall of Rumi’s chest of her last breaths.
Her cheeks are cold. There is so much red.
But it’s not over.
The feel it, the honmoon shivers like a taut string, fighting to hold her soul in place. Their hearts hold still, terrified to hope.
Zoey rips off her jacket and presses it to Rumi’s chest. Mira cradles her face and brushes the tangles of lavender matted with blood. She was smearing it more than anything.
“Come on Rumi, please stay with us. I’m so sorry. Don’t leave. We need you.”
The irony of her pleading isn’t lost. After Rumi begged them. After they betrayed her. After the only option left was for her to do this.
Zoey slowly lifts the jacket, just to see.
The gaping wound is clotting, the rivers of blood have stopped leaking. It’s not enough, but it’s something. A chance.
They crowd in on each side, mouth moving silently with their own prayers and supplication.
Mira presses her lips to the crown on her head. Zoey buries her face in Rumi’s neck.
“Come back to us. I’m sorry, were so sorry. We love you please. Don’t give up on us.”
-----
Rumi is floating. Not in darkness, there wasn’t even that. Just nothing. A void so absolute that it presses against her skin and squeezes her.
So this is death. She thinks that it’s a merciful compromise. No heaven, no hell. Just quiet. Just peace.
She closes her eyes. Or maybe they already were? It didn’t matter. She drifts, weightless.
Then the whispers begin. Please please please. Don’t leave us. I love you. We love you.
Her chest clenches. This wasn’t peace. This is torture.
The void fractures. A faint glow spreads through the emptiness, delicate threads of the honmoon reach, but doesn’t touch.
It’s a choice, she realizes. She trails her trembling fingers over the familiar hum of it. How many times had she reached in to the honmoon for her saingeom? How many times had she sought out Mira and Zoeys souls through it, just to feel their presence against the burning shame of her patterns?
I love you too, she thinks mournfully. I've always loved you both.
But love had never been enough. She was selfish. Lying. Guarded.
Unworthy.
The honmoon reeks of sorrow. It won’t drag her back. She has to want it.
The pain rips through her chest, sharp, physical, and undeniable. The void is supposed to be empty. So why does the familiar split of her heart creak inside her?
She could let go, let herself keep floating. Let the glow retreat and trust it to hold Mira and Zoey together for her.
Mira and Zoey...fuck it hurts. She knew everything about them. Mira’s eyes soften when you touch her waist. Zoey’s blush, inevitable with the smallest praise.
But for the first time in their 10 years together, Rumi saw something that night she had never seen before. Devastation. Broken by her.
The look of pure betrayal when they saw her patterns.
She was selfish to beg them. She didn’t deserve their forgiveness. But god did she want it.
She thinks... she can be selfish again. Maybe it was undeserved. But she wants them desperately.
We love you, don’t leave us. We need you.
She wants them to hear her back. I love you, I’m sorry. I trust you, please believe me. I want you to love me, let me love you.
The honmoon begins its retreat, resigned to the fate of another broken huntress group.
“No,” she whispers into the void. She lunges, wrapping her hands in the strands of light and clings with everything she is.
The honmoon pulls her home.
The first thing she feels is pain. It’s blinding and white hot as tendons and flesh are torn, hastily stitched together by starlight.
The second thing she feels is warmth. The heat of bodies pressed against her skin, and damp tears trailing down her neck.
Don’t cry, she mouths. No sounds comes out, only the shape of the words.
I love you. She tries again but it’s lost in their whispers.
Finding the last of her strength, Rumi lifts her arms. Fingers thread into hair, she clutches them weakly.
Mira and Zoey jerk back like they’d been struck.
“Rumi?!” Zoey’s voice shatters the delicate silence. She pulls back enough that Rumi's stabilizing vision can see disbelief in her wild and wet eyes.
“…Zoey,” she mutters. Her first sound. The words scrape against her throat.
Her arms slip, too heavy to hold. A hand catches hers, pressing into a tear-streaked cheek.
Mira
She hears her before she sees her. A broken sob and wailing relief.
She has never seen her cry like this. Mira is the strong one, the protector. When the girls fall apart, Mira is the glue that holds them together.
“Mira.” Her voice is steadier this time. “I’m here.” It’s all she has to give, but she offers it anyways.
Mira presses a reverent kiss to her palm.
“You came back.” She chokes. “I’m so sorry, Rumi. I’m so sorry. You came back to us.”
Another kiss, to her wrist now.
Zoey gently cups her face in her hands and wipes at the tears she didn’t know were falling. Rumi knows she probably looks horrific; hot tears carving tracks through red stained cheeks, teeth pink from the cherry syrup that bubbled up from her throat.
But Zoey gazes at her like she is sunlight. Oh, how she loves her.
Her teeth flash in a smile that is half grimace. She presses a kiss to her forehead, her cheek, the corner of her mouth. Anywhere she can reach.
“Don’t leave us, don’t ever leave us.”
The cold she carried from the void ebbs away. The selfish chill of death loosens its grip, leaving warmth in its wake.
Mira gathers her in her arms, cradling her limp head against her chest. Her grip is fierce and protective, as if her strength alone can anchor them together.
Zoey is already running ahead and sliding into the driver's seat, fumbling the keys with shaking hands.
“Mira, I want to go home.” she whimpers.
“Shhh, baby. We're going home, I’ve got you.”
Mira lowers gently into the back seat, settling Rumi firmly in her lap and holding her close.
“She’s okay, she’s okay, she’s okay,” Zoey is chanting to herself, each repetition faster as she pressing the gas just a little harder.
Rumi’s eyes lose focus and flutter shut. Mira’s warmth and weight holds her steady as the car rattles down the road. She lets herself sink into it. Zoey’s voice, and Mira’s steady heartbeat.
For the first time since Takedown, she believes them.
When she wakes up again, it’s dark. She tries to get her bearings, but the memory hits her like a blade.
The pain. The blood. The void.
Her chest seizes and she gasps, clutching at the bandages tight around her chest.
Two sets of hands are on her instantly, grounding her.
“You’re okay, Rumi, you’re okay. We're right here.” She isn’t sure who’s voice it is.
They’re in Mira's bed, she realizes. Zoey's legs are tangled against her own, Mira’s body is warm at her back. They’re here, she’s safe.
But her body doesn’t connect with her mind. Her breaths comes faster and faster, her limited vision begins to narrow.
Not again, not the void.
Mira's arms wrap around her middle, pulling her tighter against her. Zoey swings her leg over her lap and lifts Rumi's hand against her chest.
“Breathe with me, Rumi. You need to breathe with me.” Zoey urges her with a firm voice.
Rumi can’t. Her throat constricts, air clawing uselessly at her lungs. The room tilts and her eyes search desperately for Zoey’s.
“You need to breathe. Like me, stay with me. In....out...in....out.”
“Baby, you’re okay. Were right here. Breathe for us, just follow Zoey.” Mira's voice is like honey in her ears, dripping down her spine. She can feel the rumbles of her tired voice fresh with sleep.
Her first breath brings just a glimpse of air. The second drags with a stuttering resistance. The third begins to find rhythm.
She finds Zoey's eyes even in the dark, letting the moonlight behind the curtains guide her. Her fingers curl into Zoey's shirt, latching on like she’s afraid she will vanish if she doesn’t. Zoey’s hand squeezes her, and Mira’s lips press against her temple as the panic bleeds out.
“That’s it’s. You're doing so good, in...out...in...out.” She let's their praises wash over her skin as her chest rises and falls. She finally slumps back between them, exhausted, and lets Mira’s steady presence support her weight as her chest loosens it’s grip.
“I-I’m sorry.” It comes out small and broken.
“Shhh no. No more apologizing.” Mira whispers into her hair, damp with sweat. “You did so good. You're safe. We love you.”
Another kiss to the nape of her neck. Their warmth cages her panic until it ebbs away, leaving only the steady sounds of their breathing.
For the first time, silence feels like peace. They bask in it together.
Rumi clears her throat. “I heard you.” The girls still, letting her speak.
“After I-“ she falters. “In the void.” She clarifies. “I could hear you. I follow it back to you.”
Zoey's mouth opens and closes, and for the first time she’s at a loss for words.
“I didn’t want to hurt you anymore. I didn’t want to hurt anymore. But...I heard you. And…” She let the rest die in her throat.
Rumi is overcome with love for them. She could be brave for them, one more time.
She tugs gently with her fist still clenched in Zoey's shirt. Zoey follows her forward, breath warm against her face. Her eyes wide but soft with relief.
“Don’t leave me.” She begs one last time, before pulling her close.
Zoey gasps as Rumi presses against her mouth, and Rumi swallows it. Their teeth clacked, it’s too rough, but it’s perfect.
Mira finds her next, meeting her halfway. Her lips taste like sleep and Mira Mira Mira. The angle was awkward and clumsy, but Rumi tilts her head, letting them guide her through the motions. Each press, and each sigh sends a tremor through her.
“I love you,” she murmurs. “I need you both.”
They respond in kind, whispering soft against her skin, coaxing her back to bed. Zoey nestles in the crook of her neck, cheek pressed and listening to her beating heart. Mira’s arms are steady and safe around her waist.
“Sleep, sweetheart. We’re not going anywhere.”
Rumi’s heart swells. They were here, she was alive, they loved all of her. It’s all she’s ever wanted.
She left herself drift, their names on her lips.
As Rumi’s breathing evens out, Mira and Zoey exchange a look over her relaxed body. It’s a silent acknowledgement of the ordeal they’d survived and the sins they committed. Relief mixes like oil and water with lingering tension, and disbelief slowly gives way to gratitude.
Mira’s reaches out and brushes Zoey’s cheek, hesitant at first but anchoring them with tender reassurance. She leans in and grazes her lips in a gentle, lingering kiss. Zoey’s returns it, unable to contain the shy laugh that bubbles up.
“I love you,” Mira’s voice is heavy.
Zoey’s eyes crinkle with her smile. “I love you too.”
Their bodies shift naturally towards Rumi. Even in her sleep, she curls instinctively towards their embrace, lulled by their presence alone. They are a tangle of sore limbs and tender hearts.
For the first time, the weight of fear and guilt lifts, replaced by a fragile still peace.
Sleep eventually claims them too, but the glow of their shared love lingers and anchors them together.