Chapter Text
Rumi ran her hands along the edge of her trench coat, pulling it tighter around herself as her eyes got lost in a sea of elegant suits and people taller than her.
She swallowed, her throat painfully dry, but every attempt to find something to drink ended the same way. How was it possible that they only had champagne at this party?
It tasted awful.
She’d rather let her throat dry out than burn it with that liquor.
Her hands clenched as she glanced sideways at Celine, who was chatting cheerfully with a taller woman in a striking red dress that left little to the imagination, accentuating her figure. They spoke in fast, American English… far too fast for Rumi to keep up with.
After all, they had flown from Seoul to the United States, and she felt lost in the clash of another culture, other landscapes, overwhelmed by a city of concrete and towering buildings.
Not so different from Seoul… or well, very different, but at the end of the day, Rumi told herself, it was still just a city.
She wasn’t even used to cities.
They lived in Daejeon, more specifically in a hanok secluded from the city, near Jangtaesan Mountain. A remote, enclosed place where they only had each other, and where Rumi’s training was paramount. A place where she trained both mind and body, where all her focus went into learning under Celine’s instruction.
And from time to time, Celine would take her to one event or another that she’d been invited to.
Of course, they weren’t recreational events.
Rumi was there to understand how the entertainment world worked…the one she would someday be exposed to. (She already was.)
Cordoned-off red carpets, huge people in black suits preventing crowds of camera-wielding strangers from crossing the line. It was overwhelming. Terrifying.
She’d managed to calm herself enough not to hide behind Celine, but the initial discomfort around cameras had been frightening. She felt completely out of place. And that feeling stayed with her well past the age of fifteen.
She still doubted whether a life in the spotlight was meant for her. Why would she want all of that?
Still, she knew she had no say in her fate, so the most sensible thing to do was keep pushing herself… to make Celine proud. After all, if she did everything Celine asked, one day she might be freed from her patterns and her demonic inheritance.
Celine would stop seeing her as a potential threat, and maybe she could be free.
Free to do what? she often wondered.
At least, that was what she understood in theory, ignoring her own doubts.
Because right now, she felt increasingly dizzy from the constant chatter in a language she didn’t fully master. She stood beside Celine with a forced smile, desperately trying not to show her discomfort.
But her body felt trapped in that room.
The lights were too bright. The speakers were too loud.
She didn’t want to come across as whiny, but panic rose when she realized her body was betraying her…unable to stay still.
She’d rather be home training or reading… anything but standing in that unfamiliar jungle.
She was scared.
This wasn’t like a red carpet. This wasn’t a few photos and then home.
It had been an excessively long flight, followed by hours of standing beside her mentor in a heavy trench coat, a turtleneck sweater, and matching pants, feeling completely lost.
Why did adults enjoy these parties? Was Celine really enjoying herself?
She was supposed to be there to learn social dynamics, but… she hated the noisy environment and being surrounded by strangers who looked at her with curiosity.
It was supposed to be a Christmas party (something she’d never celebrated) so she didn’t really understand it when people popped out of the crowd shouting cheerful “Merry Christmas!”
Rumi didn’t understand it at all.
She looked at Celine one last time and noticed the serious expression on her face. Rumi wasn’t even paying attention to what the conversation was about anymore, but Celine seemed fully engaged with what the other woman was saying.
Rumi carefully stepped back a few paces, keeping her eyes on her mentor so she wouldn’t be noticed.
Maybe she could walk around a bit… Burbank? California? Hollywood? Rumi didn’t really understand, but she could step outside and breathe for a moment, then come back before Celine noticed.
She picked up the small bag she’d left on one of the guest tables and rose onto her toes to locate the exit.
She noticed the reception staff checking invitations and shrank back instinctively.
Still, she took tentative steps forward, her intention clear… to leave. She could feel their gazes behind dark lenses, her heart racing as the muscles in her neck tensed and her steps grew rigid.
She suppressed the urge to retreat and kept walking as if everything were perfectly normal.
No one stopped her.
She sighed in relief once she was out of sight, heading toward the elevator.
She needed to walk.
Once inside the empty elevator, she leaned against the wall, pressed her destination on the panel, and let out a long breath as the noise faded into the background…farther and farther away, bringing with it a wave of relief.
She no longer heard conversations she couldn’t understand. No longer felt like everyone was watching her.
Fatigue washed over her as she watched the numbers light up while the elevator descended.
She half-lidded her eyes and looked down, refusing to let the feeling of defeat take over. She knew she had to learn, to interact, to keep up with different languages… but everything had felt like too much.
The eccentric decorations she didn’t understand. The elegantly dressed people she didn’t know. The hidden cameras everywhere. The constant sense of being watched.
Rumi didn’t want to think about how much she hated it.
She knew it was necessary and that she’d face it eventually, but it didn’t have to be something she liked. Not at all.
The elevator doors opening made her blink, refocusing as she stepped out onto the first floor. It was quiet. Almost empty.
Still…
She could see a few people with cameras and microphones near the main exit, unaware of her… or perhaps they simply didn’t care. After all, in a world where everyone upstairs mattered, Rumi was just the daughter of a deceased artist.
At best, people looked at Celine.
Rumi received the kind of look reserved for a puppy. And she wasn’t sure how she felt about that.
She hugged her stomach, trying not to dwell on how uncomfortable the world of cameras made her feel, and turned to search for another exit.
After several unnecessary turns and a brief, awkward exchange in broken English with a janitor, she finally found another exit leading into an alley.
She noticed the distant sound of cars passing and a dog barking somewhere, but it was infinitely better than the noise she’d left behind.
She wondered if Celine had noticed her disappearance before taking a few steps toward the street.
It was cold. She could tell from the small piles of snow gathered at the corners of the street. Personally, though, she felt little more than a faint chill. Her breath fogged in the air, but that wasn’t unusual… winter back home did the same.
Her body temperature had never been normal.
She wasn’t normal.
It was something she had to remind herself constantly.
She walked cautiously, letting herself be guided by the unfamiliar scenery. She paused, a little mesmerized by the drawings on the walls, and found herself crossing streets in search of more murals she liked.
She wished she’d brought her camera, but it wasn’t practical to carry.
There weren’t many people around, just people heading back to their cars, eager to go home. No one gave a second glance to a girl walking through the cold streets.
Rumi paid just enough attention to her surroundings to avoid being mugged…or worse. Though she could defend herself.
She knew how to summon a sword.
She just hadn’t told Celine yet.
She’d discovered it one night in her room while absently tracing the lines of the honmoon, managing to summon a slender, lightweight blade.
Still, she didn’t know whether that power came from her mother… or from her father.
And since she wasn’t sure (and couldn’t remember Celine ever mentioning it) she kept the secret to herself.
She hated the way Celine looked at her with disappointment whenever her patterns spread, or when she spoke about the possibility of other demonic attributes she might develop.
Almost as if she expected fangs to sprout from her mouth.
She shuddered as she continued walking through the city.
She noticed that many shops were still open despite the late hour, decorated beautifully and filled with lights. There were plenty of restaurants and even some places where music played louder than it had earlier. A few stores were just about to close, and she even blushed when she passed an adult shop, hurrying by without lingering to look.
Her feet carried her aimlessly until she found herself on a street that seemed to lead nowhere.
There was a children’s park in the center of the area, but beyond that, houses surrounded it…decorated much like the shops she had seen earlier. Most of the lights were on, and some curtains were left open.
Rumi walked past the snow-covered park and curiously approached one of the houses. Out of habit, she adjusted her trench coat and peeked through a window, carefully observing the people sitting around a table, eating an abundant amount of food.
The place was heavily decorated, with green garlands and countless ornaments in different colors, many patterned with snowflakes. Lights filled the room, and further back (what she assumed was the living room) stood a Christmas tree just as decorated, with colorful boxes placed beneath it.
It was strange, and yet…
The people talked and smiled. Someone would say something and the others would laugh, sometimes even frown in mild displeasure.
It was very different from the party she had attended earlier, where the same forced smile seemed glued to everyone’s face.
She was a little surprised to see a small child chatting animatedly with a family member, who listened attentively, looking at them with affection.
A faint, uncomfortable pressure settled in her chest, something she didn’t quite understand…so she looked away, distancing herself from traditions unfamiliar to her.
Burbank was a strange place.
She decided to take a closer look at the decorations, making mental notes of which house she thought was the best decorated.
One had golden decorations, but unlike the party, it felt warmer, like sunlight. More pleasant to look at, less rigid. Another had decorations featuring animated characters wearing Christmas hats and scarves.
Rumi thought it was a little amusing and found herself smiling faintly.
However, when she reached what would have been the fifth house on the street, she noticed it looked slightly dim. She tilted her head and blinked, trying to spot any decorations.
There were a few, but no lights. A garland hung on the door, and the living room lights were off.
She could hear voices, but she would have needed to get closer to understand what they were saying.
It was a little disappointing.
Then she heard a noise that made her startle, instinctively stepping back as she felt the urge to summon her sword. She forced herself to stay still, her eyes scanning the surroundings as her posture grew cautious.
Her shoulders dropped, and a frown formed when she stared in disbelief at a figure climbing out of one of the house’s windows, carefully stepping away with their eyes fixed on the snowy roof… probably trying not to slip and break something important.
Rumi didn’t know what to do, so she stayed frozen like a statue.
The person looked like an Eskimo wrapped in layers upon layers of clothing, their feet finding a pipe with uneven grooves to slowly climb down. Rumi clenched her teeth when the figure slipped on the last step and hit their knee, letting out a sharp yelp.
From the sound of the voice, she assumed it was a girl.
Rumi sighed when she saw her bent over, gloved hands clutching her knee as she tried to hold back her cries of pain.
She jumped the fence to approach her, but then hesitated.
How was she supposed to communicate? Her English was far from perfect.
She had proven that at the party…
But the girl was hurt, and Celine had always told her that her priority was to protect others.
She took a deep breath and stepped forward more firmly.
“You okay?” she asked, her accent terrible, causing the other girl to flinch and hop slightly before their eyes met.
She was a girl about Rumi’s age, maybe a little younger. She had short, messy black hair tied into two buns that disappeared into the blue scarf she was wearing. At least three thick jackets layered over her body, and her pants looked just as padded.
Freckles were scattered across her face, her brown eyes expressive, and when her lips parted, they revealed slightly crooked teeth.
Rumi felt her face grow a little warmer.
She was cute.
“Y-yeah… um… can I ask what you’re doing in my yard?” the girl replied in fluent English, instantly making Rumi feel foolish by comparison. Despite that, the American girl’s expression seemed shy… careful, maybe.
Rumi wondered if she might be similar to her.
“I see you come out of the window and… I come closer,” Rumi dragged her words out awkwardly. Living with the inability to communicate bothered her far more than she liked to admit.
When she returned to Korea, she would take intensive English classes.
The girl nodded without protest and stepped closer.
“You look… Korean. Would it be easier if I spoke like this?” She switched languages immediately, making Rumi’s eyes widen. “Or did I just mess up?” she added in a higher-pitched voice, switching back to English. “I mean- you have Asian features like me and-! I swear I didn’t mean to assume! Please don’t be offended!” she finished with a tense smile that showed even more of her crooked teeth.
Rumi was about to protest. After all, she hadn’t been dragged to a foreign country just to prove she couldn’t speak the language.
Even if it was true.
And she had just been handed an easy way out…one that would let her communicate comfortably.
It was her foolish pride talking.
She thought about it for a few seconds, just enough for reason to win over her ego.
“I’m more comfortable speaking Korean. You’re right,” she admitted, releasing a breath she hadn’t realized she was holding. The other girl visibly relaxed as well.
“Oh, thank goodness. Can you imagine if you’d been Chinese or Russian? That would’ve been so embarrassing!” the younger girl wrapped her arms around her stomach as she shook her head, her smile still lighthearted.
“I don’t think I would’ve been offended… at worst, I just wouldn’t have understood you,” Rumi tilted her head, hugging one arm with the other as a strange sensation began to settle inside her.
How was she supposed to proceed now?
“Wow, that’s true… I guess you’d just have looked at me funny,” the girl stepped closer, nodding enthusiastically. “I’m Zoey, by the way.” She gave her a radiant smile in the middle of the night, and Rumi let her gaze linger on her a little longer.
How could someone be so cheerful after jumping out of their own window?
Why had she jumped out of her window?
“Rumi,” she replied, her voice drawn out and a little tense.
It would be silly to mention it to her new company, but she had never really interacted with people her own age…aside from brief encounters during Celine’s meetings or short conversations during car rides.
Again, always with Celine.
Zoey, however, didn’t seem bothered by her lack of words.
“Pretty name… I like your hair! It has its own style,” Zoey nodded, placing two fingers on her chin as if examining her, making Rumi suddenly hyperaware of her own appearance.
Her hair was part of her demonic heritage, whether she liked it or not. Still, she had never been complimented on it before.
It felt strange, and she looked away to avoid being studied further.
“Thanks,” she murmured before she could think of anything else to add. She considered returning the compliment, but since they had just met, she wasn’t sure that was what Zoey was looking for.
“And your face is cute too. You look like an idol… well, if kids could be idols, I mean,” Zoey added, refocusing on Rumi as she let out a small laugh.
Rumi opened her mouth and looked at her with mild disbelief.
“Well, I still have to grow up,” she explained without much enthusiasm.
As if Zoey somehow knew the weight she carried. As if she knew that being an idol was more than a destiny…it was a duty.
But Zoey had said it so innocently…
Rumi felt her expression grow heavy, cautious even, but when she looked into Zoey’s eyes (past her own apprehension) she saw something soft.
She noticed how those large brown eyes stared at her in wonder, the same way some people looked at Celine when Rumi accompanied her to events. It was a sight she found curious, at the very least.
Still, she had to admit it affected her.
It made a gentle warmth pool in her stomach as her cheeks were dusted with a soft shade of pink.
“You’re lucky! It looks like genetics hates me, my doctor told my mom I’d end up a bit short… but honestly, who even cares about height anyway?” Zoey shrugged before circling around her like a moth drawn to a flame. She seemed happy just wandering around her, looking at her from every possible angle, her enthusiasm never fading.
“You might still grow a little more…” Rumi offered, almost absentmindedly.
Why was she even trying to comfort her? Zoey didn’t seem upset at all.
“Maybe, but I can still do amazing things without being as tall as a coconut tree! You already saw me climbing down that pipe!” Zoey pointed excitedly toward the corner of her house where she had descended moments earlier.
Rumi suppressed a smile and lifted her chin slightly.
“That looked more like an impressive fall,” she teased, unable to stop herself. A knot twisted in her stomach as she worried Zoey might react badly, and she was already about to scold herself for making such a careless remark to a complete stranger…but to her relief, Zoey only raised an eyebrow.
“Oh yeah? And could you climb up to my roof and reach my window better?” she challenged in a sharp tone, crossing her arms. Rumi raised both eyebrows and glanced toward the structure with more enthusiasm than she’d felt all night.
She had climbed taller trees… many times.
“Possibly,” Rumi shrugged, playing it down, even though a part of her subtly urged her to show off her skills… just to see that bright look in Zoey’s eyes again.
“You’re lying,” Zoey laughed freely, letting her arms drop to her sides. Rumi frowned immediately. Of course she could do it.
“Watch this,” Rumi said firmly. She flexed her bare hands, slipped off her trench coat, and looked around for somewhere to put it. Zoey extended her arms without hesitation, and Rumi handed it to her before taking a deep breath and stepping beside the pipe Zoey had used.
Her hands touched the metal and the uneven grooves of the drainpipe. It was freezing, unpleasant to the touch, but this wasn’t the first time she’d climbed a house from the outside. With a confident smile, her fingers gripped the irregularities, her strength supporting her as she pushed upward.
The metal barely protested under her weight. Her arms propelled her upward, and almost like a cat, she climbed effortlessly. She didn’t even realize how fast she was moving until she reached the edge.
She grabbed the slippery roof ledge, swung herself carefully, then pushed again until she was sitting on the edge. She glanced inside and, much more clearly than before, heard two adults arguing, switching between two languages.
A knot tightened in her stomach before her eyes searched for Zoey’s.
Zoey stood frozen, staring up at her in disbelief.
“How did you do that so fast?!” Zoey’s eyes looked like they might pop out of their sockets as she stepped closer. Rumi gave her a shy smile in response to the obvious admiration. Zoey looked like she was glowing.
Just as quickly as she had climbed up, Rumi jumped down, landing perfectly balanced as her braid fell neatly back into place.
Zoey approached, holding out her trench coat.
“You can’t be real! Admit it! right now!” Zoey grinned, one of her hands briefly brushing against Rumi’s arm. The contact made Rumi blush slightly as she shook her head.
“Anyone can do it,” she said with a shrug as she took the coat and slipped it back on.
Zoey stared at her in disbelief, lips pressed into a line before shaking her head. “No way!”
“Of course they can,” Rumi replied, tilting her head.
Their gazes stayed locked. Rumi felt oddly enchanted by the tenderness and innocence in the way Zoey looked at her. Zoey seemed just as captivated as any of Celine’s fans. In the end, Rumi felt her lips curl into an amused smile, one Zoey returned for a brief moment.
She blinked as a cold draft passed by, noticing Zoey shiver from the chill.
Rumi pressed her lips together uneasily.
“You should go back inside… check your knee,” she said, trying to ignore what she had overheard from inside the house. It was past midnight, and there was no way-
“I’m not going to,” Zoey shrugged, making Rumi take a step back.
“It’s cold,” Rumi emphasized, gesturing toward the piles of snow, her index finger tracing a small circle in the air.
Zoey didn’t retreat.
“It’s not the first time I’ve gone out in this weather… I just wanted to take a walk,” Zoey said with an almost innocent tone that made Rumi narrow her eyes. “Besides, I’m not the only one who snuck out, right?”
Despite the playful tone, Rumi understood the implication immediately, replaying every recent event in her mind at lightning speed.
She clenched her jaw before giving in.
“I guess so…” she murmured, shaking her head slightly as she remembered the party.
“And it looks like you want to take a walk too, so why don’t we walk together?” Zoey’s voice made Rumi raise an eyebrow.
She was supposed to go back before Celine noticed she was gone. Though Celine had been so focused on everyone else earlier that it probably wouldn’t happen…
Rumi knew the way back to the hotel, and her information was tucked inside the small bag in her coat. She could return and wait for Celine, ready to face her scolding.
She would have to keep attending those events, a voice whispered in her mind.
“I can’t… I’m supposed to go back,” Rumi said before thinking it through. She looked away, noticing the disappointment that flickered across Zoey’s face.
“Oh… I understand. Don’t worry,” Zoey whispered.
They stood there awkwardly. Rumi felt a sharp pang of discomfort, as if her feet refused to move.
“Um… I’m going to wander around here a bit anyway,” Zoey said softly as she started walking alongside Rumi. “Still, it was nice meeting you… I’d really like to know more about you someday! I hope you come by my house more often!”
Then Zoey began to walk away.
But Rumi didn’t want to part.
She had stayed out too long and needed to return to the hotel, back to her life. Celine would scold her for leaving her side.
It was a matter of choosing reason.
And yet… wasn’t it worse to let Zoey wander alone?
How could she say she wanted to follow her now, after saying no?
Her thoughts were abruptly interrupted by a sinister vibration beneath her feet. Her eyes widened in horror as the honmoon glowed red for a brief moment before spreading outward like a shockwave.
She frowned and glanced at Zoey, who had frozen in place, staring at the ground.
Rumi shook her head and scanned the area, spotting a demon…. a creature of darkness writhing violently as it tried to emerge. It was near the central park of the neighborhood.
Did demons follow her wherever she went?
Where was Celine?
Rumi clenched her fists in panic as one of the demon’s dark blue arms broke through the surface, sharp claws visible. Its glowing eyes locked onto Zoey’s rigid figure.
Rumi didn’t hesitate. She summoned her sword instantly.
She faltered for a second when she realized she wasn’t sure how to hold it properly, but she shook her head and gripped the hilt firmly. Whether her stance was right or wrong didn’t matter.
Zoey wasn’t moving.
Rumi grit her teeth at the lack of reaction. She knew some people could see demons… so why wasn’t Zoey running?
Rumi rushed forward, placing herself in front of Zoey, using her own body as a shield. A guttural sound rumbled behind her, making her dig her feet into the asphalt.
“Rumi?” Zoey asked in a small, frightened voice.
Rumi clenched her teeth again as the sensation grew painful. She barely noticed the demon lunging at them before she raised her sword just in time. The creature impaled itself on the blade, disintegrating instantly.
Rumi froze as her sword dissolved as well.
She had never killed a demon without Celine’s supervision. Never. Her technique had been terrible…pure luck, more than anything.
But it had saved them.
Her reckless, stupid impulsiveness.
Heat flooded her body, her breath forming a thick cloud in front of her eyes as she turned slowly, frozen with fear.
She knew no one would believe a little girl’s story about what she’d seen, but she couldn’t bear the thought of Zoey looking at her with mortal fear.
Because she wasn’t normal.
Her mind raced desperately for an excuse. Her eyes searched anxiously for Zoey’s expression-
Just before she felt a heavy impact strike her back, spreading an unnatural warmth through her body.
“Can you kill the monsters?” a muffled, tearful voice asked against her trench coat, pressing tightly against her back. Rumi glanced around, checking that there were no other threats nearby.
She wanted to turn around, but Zoey had her trapped in a firm hug, her arms wrapped around Rumi’s torso.
“They’re demons…” Rumi murmured, unsure of what to do, staring down at the arms layered in thick clothing wrapped around her.
“I always see them lurking around, and then some people just… disappear. I’m really scared of them… but I can’t tell anyone, because they’d think I’m crazy,” Zoey whispered. Rumi felt her head lift until it rested against her shoulder blade.
“They’re real. I think only some people can see them… but yes, I can kill them.”
With more training, she almost added…but she didn’t. She wasn’t about to undermine the image Zoey was forming of her.
“Do you also see the blue lines on the ground? The ones that turn red sometimes?” Zoey murmured.
Rumi raised her hands and gently loosened Zoey’s grip, no matter how warm it felt, then turned to face her.
“It’s a protective barrier… it’s a bit hard to explain,” Rumi dragged out her words, momentarily lost in Zoey’s teary gaze and her hands hovering halfway between them. She sighed and shifted slightly to the side, assuming Zoey would lunge at her again.
She was right.
Zoey wrapped both arms around Rumi’s arm, clinging to it happily, pressing close enough that Rumi felt an odd pressure bloom in her chest.
“I’m glad I’m not the only one… and it’s enough for me to know there’s a hero out there who can kill monsters with magical swords,” she whispered before smiling. “You’re very brave, Rumi.”
Rumi felt her cheeks heat up before freezing entirely.
No one had ever called her that before. Usually, it was a job. A duty. She was a mistake, not a hero.
But Zoey… just because she’d clumsily wielded a sword, without proper training… Zoey was grateful to her.
And Rumi was genuinely confused by the fact that Zoey could also see the Honmoon.
She made what felt like the most rational decision in an unfamiliar situation.
“Let’s go,” she whispered, glancing around as she started walking, away from any possible incident where luck might not be on their side, away from the shouting argument growing louder.
With a new friend clinging to her arm like a koala.
They walked in silence for a short while, just a few minutes, Rumi calculated mentally. Long enough for her head to calm after the danger she’d just faced.
Still, she could feel the large, curious eyes beside her, never breaking their gaze. Zoey’s arms were wrapped around her arm, making it hard to walk… but it was warm.
“Aren’t you cold?” Zoey asked curiously. Rumi simply shook her head.
“No…”
“That’s fine. Some people say they’d rather look good than look like an Eskimo and stay warm this time of year,” Zoey shrugged.
Rumi snorted. “What does that even mean? Seriously, I’m not cold…and I’m not pretending,” she said as she searched her surroundings for the same graffiti-covered walls, trying to orient herself and find the way back.
“You’re like a surprise box… you’re amazing,” Zoey sighed, letting part of her body rest against Rumi’s shoulder.
Rumi shivered, but not from the cold.
“I’m not,” she said quietly, focusing on keeping her eyes forward.
Zoey seemed to drop the subject for the moment…right before tugging Rumi along and nearly making her trip.
“Oh! Oh! Look!” Zoey pointed excitedly at a narrow, empty dead-end alley, decorated with some of the same graffiti Rumi had seen earlier. “They have incredible freestyle battles in this alley! I usually climb up to the roof and watch them from above!” Zoey smiled proudly, pointing toward a corner hidden from plain sight, but with a perfect view below.
“They don’t let you get closer to watch?” Rumi murmured, a bit confused…and of course, she had no idea what freestyle even was.
“I’m thirteen. Most of them are adults, and the battles are at midnight… plus they swear a lot,” Zoey rolled her eyes, making Rumi shake her head, a little concerned about Zoey’s nighttime habits.
Still… the shouting she’d heard earlier-
“Maybe someday you can take part,” Rumi said, looking at the walls again. Now the drawings filled with musical notes and microphones made more sense.
“You think so?! I have a couple notebooks where I’m trying to write lyrics!” Zoey said, gripping Rumi’s poor arm with both hands again. “Although… I get distracted and end up writing other things,” she added softly, almost embarrassed.
Rumi smiled gently in response.
“Maybe it’ll help inspire you later. You never know, right?” Rumi said, looking at her with a bit more confidence.
She didn’t even mind the grip anymore. And she was genuinely happy that Zoey didn’t seem bothered by her lack of conversation.
“You’re absolutely right!” Zoey exclaimed before sighing.
They kept walking in comfortable silence. Zoey pointed out things here and there, making sure they didn’t miss any important spots. Rumi felt lighter than she had all night, following her lead, letting herself be carried by Zoey’s enthusiasm and the tenderness with which she made even trivial things feel interesting.
Like which bakery was her favorite (even though it was closed), or how many hot dog stands there were on certain corners.
Rumi found herself smiling easily, looking at everything with fascination. It wasn’t just the graffiti anymore. It was the city, the stories, the company, the spontaneous touch.
The warmth in her chest felt similar to the way Celine would pat her head with a gentle smile after a hard day of training.
But this time…
Rumi hadn’t done anything to earn that easy affection from this stranger.
And Zoey was incredibly open…sharing so much about herself and anything she thought might interest her.
Now Rumi knew about turtles, how there were land turtles and water turtles… that Zoey loved K-pop obsessively, especially the group Celine was part of (Rumi stayed silent and didn’t ruin the moment by mentioning her connection to that group), and about Zoey’s hopes of entering the industry someday.
When they reached a brightly lit street, Rumi felt her mood lift even more, encouraging her to ask questions.
“Why are all the streets decorated?” she asked, pointing at the glowing streetlights adorned with angels, candles, wreaths, and gifts.
Zoey looked at the decorations for a moment before turning to Rumi with something like… sadness?
“They’re Christmas decorations, for December 25th,” Zoey replied. But unlike what Rumi expected, she wasn’t mocking her at all. Instead, Zoey moved closer, hugging her arm tighter. “Usually people decorate trees, families exchange gifts, or have dinners… mostly, they’re together,” she said, trying to make it easier for her to understand.
“So that’s what the golden decorations at the party were for…” Rumi murmured, her gaze drifting toward what looked like an open mall. Only a few stores were open…but they were there.
“A party?”
“Oh, it’s nothing… I was just accompanying my mentor to an event, and they had those decorations too, but it was too much,” Rumi whispered, lifting her gaze to search for stars, only for the awake city to block them entirely.
Zoey stayed silent for a long moment. Then she loosened her grip slightly and guided Rumi’s gloved hand into her own, forcing her to look back at her.
And then she began leading her toward a 7/11.
“It’s never too late to have a good first Merry Christmas, you know,” Zoey offered her a suspicious smile, never slowing her steps. Rumi could barely hear anything except their footsteps dragging through the snow toward the store.
“What are you planning?” Rumi narrowed her eyes.
“We’re going to buy some very necessary things to celebrate!”
Rumi sighed, giving in to her whims.
Who was she to resist that puppy-like look?