Chapter Text
Rumi often found comfort in Celine's arms. She always had.
Something about being fully embraced, hearing the steady heartbeat of her maternal figure, made everything okay. No matter what problem she had, Celine's arms were the solution.
She just didn't realize how early that had started.
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Celine loved Rumi. From the moment Mi-Yeong told her she was pregnant, she loved Rumi. Before she had a name, before she knew who her father was, there was so much love.
Even when Mi-Yeong confessed Rumi's heritage, even when the sting of betrayal was fresh, Celine loved Rumi.
This sweet, innocent baby who deserved the world.
Celine never knew what happened to Rumi's father. Mi-Yeong never told her. Celine wasn't sure Mi-Yeong even knew herself.
So she was there. For whatever Mi-Yeong needed.
She was there through the pregnancy. She was there at the hospital. She was there when Mi-Yeong held Rumi for the first time.
“Do you want to hold her?”
Celine wasn't sure she’d heard her right, “What?”
Mi-Yeong simply chuckled, fond of Celine's emotional incompetence. “Rumi. Do you want to hold her?”
Mi-Yeong saw Celine take half a step back, always feeling like she was stepping too far in. Like she was taking things that were never meant to be hers, even when they were happily offered. “Oh, no. I couldn't.”
“And why not?” Just a smirk and a raise of her eyebrow had Celine hesitating. “Cece, come on.”
That was enough, as Celine instantly made her way to Mi-Yeong’s bedside. Carefully, she lifted Rumi from her mother's arms.
“Careful. Just like that. Support her head.”
The weight and warmth of Rumi settled in Celine's arms. Against her chest. She was holding the weight of the world in her arms, and it wasn't scary. It was everything.
A beaming grin spread across Celine's face. A laugh escaped from her throat. The joy she felt in that moment was unlike any she had felt before. It was something she didn't know how to name. She just knew she needed to protect that feeling. She never wanted to lose it.
Celine knew then that she would do anything for Rumi. She would promise to protect Rumi. It didn't matter that she was half-demon. She was Mi-Yeong’s. She was hers. She was beautiful. She was all that mattered.
Mi-Yeong watched them with a knowing grin. She'd felt the same way when holding Rumi. The joy of being a mother. She doubted Celine fully understood what she was feeling. She'd just have to make sure she'd understand in time.
They were in this together. If Celine would have her.
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Celine held Mi-Yeong's body in her arms. She still felt warm, though she knew that wouldn't last.
She was already gone.
The once sticky blood that coated Celine's hands had become dry and flaky. Yet still, she didn't want to let go.
Letting go made it real. Letting go meant she was truly gone. Letting go meant Celine was on her own. So she held firm.
Her senses were flooded and overwhelmed with everything that had happened. It was no wonder that she hadn't heard the crying infant in the other room for far too long. But, once her sense of hearing re-emerged from the ocean of her grief, Celine knew what she had to do.
Carefully, she lowered Mi-Yeong to lie on the floor. Maybe she could convince herself that she was taking an unusually located nap.
Slowly, as if in a trance like state, she made her way down to the nursery.
Celine kept Mi-Yeong in her sight the entire time. Turning away felt like no longer fighting for her, and Celine would always fight for her.
Except…standing in the door to the nursery, she had a choice to make. Mi-Yeong or Rumi.
If she had been asked a year ago, before Rumi had been born, her answer would have been instant. Mi-Yeong. Always and forever. Mi-Yeong came first. She'd always choose her.
But now…now Mi-Yeong was gone, yet Celine realized that wasn't what was impacting her decision. From the moment she held Rumi in the hospital, she knew. That little girl would always come first.
It was a scary thought. It felt sacrilegious to think that Mi-Yeong wasn't her number one priority. Even after her passing. Even after holding her lifeless body for longer than she should have. Even after what they had become. Rumi was her choice. Celine walked through the door.
She scooped Rumi out of her crib, shushing her cries and bouncing slightly to calm her.
Whether through instinct or choice, Celine felt Rumi's little hands cling to her shirt. It felt like she was choosing her. Like she was letting Celine know that she could do this. That she was enough to do this. That she could be her mother, even if she was alone.
Celine could only return the tight embrace, protectively surrounding Rumi with her body. The weight of the infant in her arms being the only thing keeping her tethered to the earth.
Rumi's cries slowly dissipated. The simple act of being held, of being surrounded with comfort, eased the young girl back to sleep.
She remained in Celine's arms through the night. Long after Mi-Yeong’s body had been taken away. Long after the sun had risen past the horizon, signaling not only a new day but a new existence.
One without Mi-Yeong. One without one of her mothers. One where the embrace of one set of arms would have to fill the space where two should have been.
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Rumi was a fussy baby. It was hard to get her to eat. It was hard to get her to sleep. It was hard to get her to do anything.
This night was no exception.
Like she had done countless times, Rumi awoke with intense crying in the middle of the night. Celine was over to her in an instant, thankful that her hunter training allowed her to do many things even when half asleep.
She blinked a few times to try to fully wake up before scooping Rumi out of her crib.
As was normal, Rumi's cries lessened simply by being held, like every problem in her little mind was solved simply through physical touch, but she didn't completely stop.
It had taken some time, and many sleepless nights, for Celine to discover what would fully work to calm Rumi down.
She started humming nothing in particular. Rumi didn't mind as long as it sounded nice.
Celine drew the infant in closer, so she could feel the vibrations in her chest. Something about it soothed Rumi, who was no longer crying.
Eventually, Celine shifted into quiet vocalizations. Mostly nonsense, snippets of nursery rhymes, and even parts of some Sunlight Sisters songs.
The honmoon illuminated itself under her feet. The threads slowly settled around Rumi as Celine sang, embracing her as it had been doing recently.
Celine knew what this meant for her daughter but now was not the time to consider such things.
Slowly, Rumi drifted back to sleep. The steady rise and fall of her chest was a comfort to Celine who continued to hold her in her arms long after it was needed.
She worried for the days where a simple hug would no longer fix Rumi's problems, especially considering the fate the honmoon had chosen her for, but she would continue to hold on. For as long as Rumi needed.
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Celine did her best to spoil Rumi as a toddler, and it showed.
The young girl was used to getting her way most of the time, which is why they were visiting the teddy bear museum for the fourth time this month.
It brought little Rumi so much joy. The twinkle in her eyes when asking to make the trip was enough to make anyone forget about the weighing responsibilities of adulthood and partake in childish joy.
How could Celine even begin to tell her no?
Despite Celine's doting, however, Rumi was not a bratty child. Whether she was mimicking the older woman or not, the girl had amazing manners.
She did not scream and cry when things went awry. She got silent.
Of course, you could still tell when something was bothering the toddler. Young children aren't the best at hiding their emotions.
Celine noticed instantly when Rumi clammed up. Instead of pointing at the bears in a giggling exclamation, a small pout filled Rumi's face.
Taking note of her jutting lip, Celine gently pulled Rumi along. Once they were enough out of the way, Celine knelt down to her level and spoke calmly. “Rumi, my dear, what's the matter?”
But Rumi's lip only jutted out further, turning her face away from Celine.
Celine fought a sigh. Getting Rumi to open up was always a process. “Rumi, if something's wrong, you can tell me. I won't be upset.”
Rumi's eyes slowly found Celine's, but there was still an apprehension there.
“I can't change whatever happened, but maybe I can help make it better.”
That seemed to be enough as Rumi leaned in to mumble, “My feet hurt.”
It was something so miniscule that Celine almost laughed, but she made sure she didn't. Not only could that keep Rumi from sharing things with her in the future, but something about the whole situation didn't seem right.
If this were any other toddler, the statement would probably mean that they were tired. That their feet were sore. That they simply didn't want to walk anymore. But this was Rumi.
“Can I take a look?” Rumi clumsily nodded her head.
After having Rumi sit on a nearby bench, Celine undid the little buckles on Rumi's shoes. Slipping them off of her feet, Celine noticed Rumi's wince. After briefly inspecting the appendages, Celine noticed the raw spots worn into the backs of Rumi's heels.
“Oh, Rumi. Why didn't you say something sooner?” The little girl simply shrugged her shoulders.
Celine could assume she had thought saying something would mean heading home early. But that just wouldn't do.
Celine scooped Rumi up, clutching her against her chest. The little girl's arms instantly wrapped around Celine's neck. Her dour mood instantly turned around.
Giggling, she asked, “Mama, what are you doing?”
“What am I doing?” Celine dramatically repeated back. “Young lady, we still have bears to see, and I intend to see them all.”
Rumi remained firmly in Celine's arms, happily spouting commentary related to the various costumed bears, for the rest of the trip, further cementing the young girl's belief that being held by her mother could fix anything.
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More often than not, Rumi would find herself in Celine's embrace.
She would very often casually launch herself into Celine's arms. It had become something of a game.
With or without warning, the little one would jump, fully trusting Celine to catch her every time. And Celine would. She'd never let that little girl fall.
Sure, Celine herself had fallen a few times in order to catch and protect Rumi, but she never hesitated to do so.
Rumi particularly loved yelling, “sneak attack!” before springing herself up at her mother. Her giggles could be heard long after Celine had caught her.
And, though she'd never admit it, Celine loved the game just as much as Rumi did.
That also wasn't the only method Rumi had to spend time in Celine's grasp.
Rumi was something of a lap cat, even if Celine would never use those words to describe her.
Whenever Celine had any work to do, Rumi would be there.
If Celine was filling out paperwork at her desk, Rumi would crawl up into her lap, tuck her head against her chest, and fall asleep.
If Celine was typing on her laptop on the couch, Rumi would wiggle under one of her arms, hugging her around the waist, and watch whatever Celine was working on.
If Celine was cooking, she'd have to manage one handed, as the other would be dedicated to keeping Rumi held against her.
Essentially, whenever Rumi wanted up or held, Celine would oblige. The little girl would simply have to hold her arms up to signal her desire. No matter what she was doing, Celine would find a way to make it happen.
And Rumi loved it. Something about being held made her feel especially safe and loved in a way nothing else could.
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There were very few times that Celine hated holding Rumi. Specifically, the worst were when the young girl needed comfort.
Now, Celine didn't hate it because Rumi needed to be held to feel comforted. She hated whenever Rumi felt bad enough to need that comfort in the first place.
And today was one of those days.
Rumi was only six years old. She was far too young to understand death. To understand the complexities that families could sometimes be. So she hadn't known about Mi-Yeong.
Well, technically she knew of her. She knew that she was her mother, just like Celine was. She knew that she was gone now. And she knew that she had loved her.
At first, it didn't make sense to the young girl's mind when that random pap had shouted out, asking her what she thought of Mi-Yeong. What she thought about being raised by someone who wasn't her mother. Because Celine was her mother, but no one seemed to agree.
Rumi could only look up at Celine, big, brown, doe eyes full of confusion. Celine got them out of that situation as fast as she could, but the damage had been done.
Rumi got quiet and thoughtful, as she always did when things became too much for her. Eventually she asked, “So…you're not my mom?”
“I am, Rumi.” Celine instantly responded, but she was only met with a skeptical look from Rumi. She sighed, “As many would define it…no.”
“What does that mean?”
Celine hated that she had to have this conversation now. She hated that she had to have it at all. “For most, a family is made up of a mother, a father, and their child or children. A family is only composed of those who are related to each other.”
Rumi quirked her head thoughtfully, “And we're not related?”
Celine stayed silent for a moment, “No…we're not.”
“But my Eomma-”
“Is related to you. She is who everyone is talking about when they ask about your mother.”
“And my father?”
“Is a question for another time.” Celine's voice was cold at that, and Rumi knew that they wouldn't be discussing him any time soon.
Rumi sat there, processing everything. “So what are we then?”
It was a simple question. A logical one given the topic of conversation. It stung all the same.
Celine never thought it would hurt this much. “Before Mi-Yeong passed, I was already going to raise you with her. She was your mother, but I was always in the picture. Then…after everything happened, I was on my own.”
Rumi looked deep in thought, so Celine continued. “I adopted you. That means that, legally, I am your mother, even if we aren't related.”
Celine grabbed Rumi's hand, hoping to pull the young girl from the depths of her own mind. “You are, and have always been, my daughter, Rumi. We are family, and I love you.”
Yet, Rumi stayed quiet. Far too quiet for far too long.
If Celine hadn't been carefully listening, she would have missed Rumi quietly voice, “Can we visit Eomma?”
“Of course.” Celine would have never said anything else.
So that's where they found themselves. Before Mi-Yeong's grave.
Celine had taken Rumi here a few times before. It was always a happy affair. Well…happy enough.
Rumi hadn’t fully grasped what visiting Mi-Yeong and paying her respects truly meant, and Celine would always miss her, but they were never consumed by grief.
Now, Rumi was quiet. Like before.
She stared at her mother's name with an intensity that had never crossed her features before.
It took some time, time to process and understand what Celine had told her, before sobs began to shake the small girl's frame.
Celine wanted to grab her. To pull her into a crushing embrace, but, for the first time, she hesitated. She didn't know if Rumi would want that now. Want that from her.
It wasn't until she heard Rumi gasp out, “Mama,” that she gave into her motherly instincts.
She held her close. Cupping the back of her head as the girl cried into her shoulder.
Celine felt horribly for her. For what she was going through. Grieving something she didn't fully understand. Mourning the loss of the life she thought she understood.
This would change things between them, and she hated that. But she would still hold Rumi. She would still be her mother.