Chapter Text
“Do we really have to go in?”
Celine stopped rummaging for her sunglasses box, leaving the dashboard of the rented car alone for a minute to face the child in the passenger seat.
“This is your mother’s extended family, Rumi,” she said gently. “They’re a surprisingly tight-knit clan. There’s kids your age too, so you can make friends.”
It took a lot of effort for Rumi to unscrunch her face. She would rather spend Chuseok in Jeju with Celine, just the two of them spending the break eating copious amounts of food and reading hunters history until her bedtime. For some reason, being eight years old meant having to go to an actual school and flying to Gyeongsang-do for the holidays, all so she could meet strangers who shared half her DNA.
“Oh, is this Miyeong’s daughter? She should be eight now, right?” A woman with sharp eyes and shoulder-length dark hair received them warmly, addressing Celine like old friends.
“Yes. I just enrolled her into an elementary school this year,” Celine said. “Rumi, this is your uncle’s wife, Chungha.”
“My son is the same age,” aunt Chungha said excitedly. She turned her head and called out for her husband. “Honey! Come here and bring Chungwoo with you!”
The man who appeared on the doorway was tall with short hair and a gentle, dependable air to him. His face was so similar to Ryu Miyeong, Rumi couldn’t help but be rude and stare.
Fortunately, the boy following behind him looked like a carbon copy of his mother, so Rumi would only be rude once.
“Rumi, say hi.”
She fidgeted with the end of her braid, eyes shyly glancing up. “Hi.”
“Nice to meet you.” The boy’s smile was warm. “I’m Chungwoo and I like archery.”
Rumi blinked. She looked up so fast at the unexpected turn of topic. Archery? Since her mother used a bow as her weapon, Celine once tried to teach it to her. Rumi ended up liking something else better, though.
“I-I like swords!”
Aunt Chungha smiled. She placed her hands on her son’s shoulders. “Chungwoo will compete in the Olympics one day,” she declared proudly, her choice of words definitive, like her son’s qualification was already written in the stars.
It might not be the best idea to put such pressure on a kid, but Chungwoo only nodded, taking in the statement like it was no big deal.
“I will bring home a gold medal,” he said instead. It lit up the competitive streak Rumi had never bothered to hide.
“I’m going to protect everyone from demons,” she said before she could stop herself. Her eyes widened. She just spilled about the hunter-demon thing she had promised Celine she would keep secret!
“Oh, Miyeong was into that shamanism stuff too. Rumi-ah, you’re just like your mother,” her uncle fortunately brushed off. Rumi sighed in relief. “Are you going to become an idol too?”
“That’s the plan.” Celine took the change of topic and ran with it. “Rumi is such a good singer for her age, it'd be a shame if people don’t get to listen to her talent. She’s going to be a better vocalist than me one day.”
Rumi looked up at Celine with disbelief. Better than the best main vocalist of first gen K-pop is unthinkable!
“Really? You should perform for us sometime!”
“I can sing Arirang.” Rumi blushed at the praise, but she couldn’t help her innate desire to show off — Celine had once praised it, saying it was an important quality for an idol to have.
“There’s a karaoke machine in the sitting room,” Rumi’s uncle said. “It’s one of the reasons why we rented this property for the gathering.”
Aunt Chungha clapped her hands. “Great! Let’s have fun after we eat!”
As the catalyst for the activity, Rumi got the honor of being the first one on the mic. Her heart pounded in her chest. She stumbled a bit in the middle of the song, a few notes flatter or more shaky than she liked, and finished the song with disappointment.
Contrary to her feelings, the rest of the Ryu clan and Celine went wild with applause.
“That was amazing!” Chungwoo said, something like admiration in his eyes.
Rumi bowed shyly at all the attention, mumbling “thanks” as she passed the mic to her guardian. A raucous encouragement next and Celine was in the middle of the room, belting out a 90s hit like she was at an awards show.
Aunt Chungha and her husband Wooyoung did a duet next. As one Ryu clan member after the other took turns on the mic, it was clear that vocal talent ran in the family. Even the quiet preteen — his parents were researchers off on an expedition, so he came alone, mostly sitting in the corner without talking to anyone — after a lot of coaxing stood up and managed to pull off his song, executing every note cleaner than the average untrained child would.
Celine stared at him with calculation. “Gunwoo, are you interested in becoming an idol?”
“No, Celine-nim,” he said, then after a beat belatedly added, “but thank you.”
Celine wasn’t finished scouting yet. When Chungwoo shyly got his turn and also did well, she approached his parents with an offer.
“If he ever gets bored of archery, you know my number,” she whispered.
Aunt Chungha laughed. Uncle Wooyoung looked pensive but smiled.
The gathering went on for days. On the flight home to Jeju, Rumi stared out the window, her heart light.
It was nice to meet her mother’s family.