#saw the tags where the judge says “Not again...”#So A HUNTER GROUP ALREADY DID THIS BEFORE!?#kpop demon hunters#celine kpdh#rumi kpdh#mira kpdh#zoey kpdh
It was on a whim! 😅 Hunter or not, souls who have unresolved grievances had tried to circuvent the laws of the living and dead and haunt souls of their closed ones who've reincarnated already. And the Judge has to go to the living world and dragged these desperate souls back to the underworld.
I was thinking of what could we add on, and a plot of five former hunters reconnect with Celine in her new life would be something... They double down trying to fix things immediately thinking Celine might be struggling or alone without anyone in the living world.
Rumi, Mira, and Zoey prepped their apology speeches, making sure that reincarnated!Celine won't be the grieving hunter they see. Hell, they might as well be helpful ghosts to make sure that she’s ok.
Miyeong and Thirdlight are anxious too because they’ve waited far too long for their soulmate. While they don’t know the full details of what happened (the girls spoon feeding bits and pieces of information in between their sobs) they’re determined to find Celine and make things right again.
They go back to the living world and try to make amends with the reincarnated!Celine, only to be met by a happy Celine.
Reincarnated!Celine is not the silver haired matriarch counting her days; instead the woman in front of them is married and living her best life.
I don't want to be me anymore.
She was with another woman.
Her hand interlocked with her wife's. Just the two of them, happy; alone, in their sprawling garden behind of what seemed like modern hanok with lush greenery. Their Celine didn’t bore the weight of the world. Her eyes were solely on her partner who was pregnant.
“How about…Miyeong?” Celine suggested. “Miyeong is a nice name.”
“The popstar?!” She laughed. “Isn’t that too dramatic? She died so young too. We wouldn’t want that.”
Rumi looked over to her mom. Miyeong was silent.
Celine, flustered, appeared in agreement. “You’re probably right… I thought the name sounded nice.”
“I’m curious, why Miyeong?”
“I’m not sure…” Celine rested on her wife’s shoulder; her hand atop hers, comforting Yu-ri. “Growing up, her voice always made me paused. Eomma mentioned that singers can move souls, and in a way, she’s right. It’s nice hearing her singing voice.”
“Just like her daughter? Maybe we name her Rumi instead?”
Celine giggled. “That’s also a famous name too!”
Like her mother, Rumi was also speechless. She stood right beside Miyeong. The five of them, observing of what's become of their fellow hunter. The new Celine felt oddly familiar, though Rumi couldn’t pinpoint it.
“Plus, Rumi might be a bit too edgy. Wouldn’t want the kids to think she’s exactly like ‘the’ Rumi. What if she’s a bookish girl like her Eomma?” Her puppy eyes were too irresistible for her wife. Yu-ri couldn’t say no and pulled Celine for an almost kiss.
A mischievous smile escape from Yu-ri, “Or Maybe an architect?”
Celine pouted, “Heavens no! Honey, she’ll go through hell!”
“But that’s how we’ve met,” she said, kissing Celine’s forehead. “A librarian and an architect alone during after hours. Two, daring enough to leave Korea and hitch to LA. And now moving to Denmark."
HUNTR/X gasped, especially Rumi who couldn't look away from Celine. Miyeong and Poppy were confused.
It was you, Rumi thought.
Eun-bi, the architect; the one responsible for building all of HUNTR/X charity buildings and parks in their latter years. Hovering over Celine, Rumi wanted to hug her, anything to feel her guardian's touch again instead of the one time they shook hands. (Rumi had insisted to thank her in person, despite Eun-bi being a private person.) On that day, Rumi's priority was heading back to Jeju and clean up Celine's grave.
Rumi's wrinkled hands went through Celine, sending a shiver to her adoptive mother's shoulder.
"Denmark would be cold," said Celine, appeared worried. "Maybe I should turn down the public building proposal and stay in Burbank."
Burbank, that was where Rumi had heard of Eun-bi, and had recruited her by Zoey's recommendation.
Yu-ri chided Celine, "Jagiya, we'll be fine in Europe. Plus, they're eager that you're taking the project."
Celine melted by her touch. She kissed her by the lips, before confessing to Yu-ri, “I just want the both of you to be safe and happy. That’s all. She doesn’t need to be famous. Or a singer. Happy.”
“Hee-young…” Celine touched Yu-ri’s belly. “Hee-young is a beautiful name.”
I don’t want to be me anymore.
Not the hunter who knew her family cared less of her that they forgot her ashes at the hospital. Parents (annoyed) whom awkwardly sat through the press and accepting the condolences while gritting their teeth; a father who had cursed that she was a mistake behind closed doors. Or the mother that had kept sighing, regretting having a daughter who never liked boys. Or the brother, a conservative, busy trying to find the closest fried chicken place because funeral dishes were too plain.
And Rumi, dressed in black, stomaching the bile of what should be her grandparents, but was met with cold glances.
They never liked idols, and nothing would change their minds.
She didn’t want to be a hunter anymore. Not a brow beaten veteran who long knew she would head to an early grave. She’d wished it was her buried below and not Miyeong. At least Rumi would be with her mother and not her.
Rumi clutched the box. Not even a lifeless hand to hold; just a box holding Celine’s ashes. They were too late.
Why didn’t they say mother and daughter to each other?
Rain in Jeju washed away the dust on Celine's headstone. The fresh air purged her thoughts as she lighted an incense stick.
Rumi, surrounded by family members, reminded that she is loved, always and forever; tears from her grandchildren not wanting her to go.
Earlier that week, she rested, thinking back while her daughter crocheted another scarf. Rumi spoke, “She had no one.”
Her daughter stopped knitting and looked up. “Mm? Who?”
“Your other halmeoni.” Tears wet the creases of her eyelids, “She was alone in the hospital. And no one came. They gave her everything for the pain, but they said it was unbearable for her. If she had someone then maybe…”
A family, anyone who could lessen the pain. The image of Celine alone, unable to breathe. When Mira and Zoey had passed on that image would always come back and haunt Rumi: her adoptive mother, breathing like a fish on land. Mira and Zoey had their family with them. The girls had made sure that no one was alone on their last moments. They had no regrets.
“We never came,” said Rumi. Restless, she tried to sit up, catching her breath. “It spreaded to her lungs, and she couldn’t breathe. We should have been there,” said Rumi, trying not to cry. “At least, she wouldn’t be suffering in her last moments.”
“Eomma,” her daughter, already in her 60’s, caught Rumi’s hand, helping her mother to sit up. She was the oldest, and the kindest of the five.
“Halmeoni wouldn’t blame you. I’m sure she’ll be proud of the accomplishments you and aunties have done.”
Her daughter reminding her of the charities, causes that would make Celine beam with pride. Rumi would be like Celine in her latter years staring at a headstone, not letting a speck of dirt smudge her mother's name. Two mothers she'd learned to let go. Two whom she had more time to learn and had wished she could talk with.
She was not Celine anymore.
She was smiling, helping Yu-ri to get up and greet other relatives entering the garden. Anxiety washed away from Celine's face, seeing her mother approached her with the biggest bear hug and checking if her daughter was cold.
Not a woman grieving for her soulmates.
Not the woman who wrote lyrics and words on her remaining days, searching for that last spark before life exhausted her aching breath. Or the letters she'd wished to give to her girls, but never had the courage to send it.
She didn't have to be hunter trapped between love and duty and be damned regardless of her choice.
She was someone else, a daughter well-loved by the arts and a family who would fight tooth and nail for their girl's happiness.
A mother who threw spray cans against stuffy politicians. A father—a retired officer—who could bring commentator hacks down to their knees from just words alone. An older brother and sister who used their sciences to shape the world. Society would call them odd, yet in due time, society will be odd with them.
The judge appeared before the five, acting as the wall between them and the living. Instead of fury, the arbitrator expressed relief to find them.
“It seems you’ve found your former mentor,” they said. Curiosity got the best of the judge. “Did you find your answer?”
Rumi and the girls nodded. Their bony hands joined together, just like the old times.
Miyeong asked, “she’s not Celine anymore, is she?”
“No. That hunter is no more,” the judge observed Celine and her new family walking back inside the hanok. “Past lives shape the present. When your time comes, all five of you will join with the living. Please keep that in mind.”
Miyeong and Poppy looked at each other and then at the judge. “Judge-nim, may we at least say goodbye to our youngest?”
The judge nodded, “of course. Whenever you’re ready.”
One by one, the hunters say good bye to Celine. It didn’t matter if she couldn’t see them. They just needed to say their piece.
Mira was the first, Zoey, second, and Poppy was the third.
Rumi and Miyeong were the last two, hovering, and watching Celine busy correcting one of the floor plans. It was nighttime and the weather was getting colder and colder.
The blueprints littered on the room made Miyeong chuckle, “Some things don’t change.”
Miyeong’s hand barely hovered over her soulmate’s shoulder. She didn’t want Celine to catch a cold. She had no place to make contact with the living.
“I gave you an impossible task,” said Miyeong, lips quivering. “Raising a daughter who was not yours; yet, you still cared for her and our graves despite everything.” A tiny cry escaped from her, rattling the windows.
Celine looked up, confused. She got up and went over, checking the window latch.
Miyeong held back her tears. Rumi watched her mother trying her best not to interfere.
There was only so much one who could handle. Miyeong spoke, “Had I known what happened, we wouldn’t stand idle.”
Miyeong stood back, turning to Rumi.
Strange how she was scores older than her birth mother who was barely twenty-five. And yet, Rumi toddled, hovering closer to Celine.
All what Rumi wanted to say dissipated. The woman in front of her was not Celine.
Yet, some of her mannerisms and a single Honmoon thread latched onto her former mother. Celine’s soul, a pure white light unsure of the Honmoon thread surrounding it.
How she wished to embrace Celine—or hear her voice—but the dead couldn’t touch the living.
“There were days I dreamt that you were here, alive. Then I wake up, reminded of the truth,” said Rumi.
Dreams would make up your voice, to make it less painful.
All these years the grief lessened, yet her hand trembled.
Rumi reached for Celine’s hand. Like a child wanting to hold their parents’, she wanted to remember that touch. Her guardian had never smile, but Rumi would know when her guardian was happy. The ease of her mom’s shoulders, the feeling that she was always there.
Her hand went through Celine’s. A shiver ran through her mother, but Celine didn’t recoil. Her mother looked relaxed, but curious why her hand was cold.
“I’m sorry we weren’t there,” said Rumi. “You shouldn’t have been alone. I wish…” Rumi wiped her ghost tears, “we had more time.”
With a heavy heart, Rumi retreated back.
The judge appeared next to a portal. Rumi and Miyeong gave one last look.
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