Chapter 1: First Meet

Chapter 2: Suspicion

Chapter 3: Demons

Chapter 4: Conflictions

Chapter 5: Discoveries

Chapter 6: The Third Sister

Chapter 7: ݁₊ ⊹ to be posted ⊹ ₊ ݁.

Office buildings and crowded streets morphed into rolling hills and farmland behind the train car’s window panes. Celine’s training grounds were more mountainous than the countryside. Here, it was pleasantly rural. Though as scenic as the landscape was, it couldn’t distract Rumi from the directions saved on her phone, which was currently fighting for its life on the train’s built-in WiFi system. Rumi twirled your bracelet in her hand for comfort. The address was typed in a hurry. After the events of last night, Rumi needed answers from someone who was there to witness it all. There was really only one person she could go to, someone who, she hoped, could tell her the whole truth.

It was always difficult for Celine to talk about the past. She would always get that same distant look in her eyes; the kind that Rumi saw in herself every time she made up an excuse to explain to others why she wanted, needed, to be covered up all the time. One question can send Celine somewhere else entirely. And when she came back, what would swiftly follow was a change of subject. If she were lucky, a half-baked answer.

Her mother’s story was like one large 1000 piece puzzle. The only problem was, Celine kept kicking the most important pieces under the couch, stopping Rumi from forming the complete picture. Years later — years of training, of defending, of being under Celine’s care — Rumi’s still kept in the dark. Only now, she’s searching for the light switch.

But unlike her mother’s, the mystery of her father’s identity wasn’t one that kept her up at night. Celine never seemed too fond of him, and now she knows why. Rumi only knew the basics: He was a demon, all demons are evil; at least she believed up until her recent talks with Jinu. Gwi-Ma, however, was the most ruthless of them all. Now she knows the truth about him, but Celine wasn’t the one who gave it to her. If Rumi asked again, would Celine come clean, or create more lies than truths?

Rumi is still coming to terms with the fact that she shares blood with the very thing she’s trained her whole life to destroy. He is also someone Rumi absolutely cannot go to about any of this. Meetings with Jinu behind her family’s back is one thing. Rumi can’t possibly fathom seeking Gwi-Ma out for anything, even if it meant answers. That would be betrayal. The information she gained last night was the most she’ll ever get out of him. He was a threat to the Honmoon, the fans, and her family. And she would not let him win.

A horn blares outside. The weight of the train screeches to a grinding halt at Rumi’s final station. Rumi quickly shoves the bracelet in her pocket as she comes to a stand. Not bothering to bring any luggage, it was only a day trip after all, Rumi hopped off the train and looked around. The station was fairly deserted, but a few locals and travelers milled around. The directions on her phone proved no help to her as a ‘no service’ pop up flashed on her screen in big bold characters. 

Rumi was able to discreetly ask for directions from a local before walking down a dirt road that leads up to a nice one story cottage. The sound of childlike laughter flows out the windows like a sweet melody. With a deep breath, Rumi knocks. Voices quiet down. Not a moment later a woman in her early forties cracks open the door. The woman freezes, eyes widening as if she were staring at a ghost.

“Rumi?” 

The woman steps back and opens the door fully. She wears simple lounge clothes. Her curly hair is pulled back in a single bun. “It’s really you.” the woman marvels. “You’ve grown so much. Come in, come in.” The woman gestures for Rumi to come inside. She leads her into the living room and tells her to take a seat while she ushers two small children to their rooms.

“I keep up with all your Huntrix songs. That Golden one might be my favorite. Tea?” She holds a teapot. Rumi declines.

Finally Ji-Hyun, the third member of the Sunlight Sisters, sits on the couch. “I wanted to be there for you…and I was, at first. You’re probably too young to remember though.” She laughs, reminiscing, “I think I still have a few baby photos of ya want 'em.”

Rumi bunched the fabric of her hoodie with her hands. Here she goes. “What I want is to hear the truth about my past.”

“No more beating around the bush huh?” Ji-Hyun leans back. “I figured you’d find me eventually. I didn’t want to pressure Celine into seeing me again.”

Ji-Hyun leans back against an armchair. “Though I’m afraid you’re going to hear a very fragmented version of it. Because everything that happened? I was kept out of a lot of it.” She takes a breath. “Back then, the Honmoon was stable. We thought we would be the ones to turn it gold. There was only one way to break the Honmoon, and that was to break us.”

—

Your alarm rang exactly at 7.

You yawned loudly, automatically stretching out your sore limbs and cracking a few bones in the process. The events of last night came rushing back. You sat up, more alert now that you remembered you brought Rumi home last night. Though she was nowhere to be found. Your hand pressed down on the spot where she slept. It was cold to the touch. The only evidence of her being here was her lingering scent of her favorite shampoo and a post it note stuck neatly to your nightstand. 

You forced yourself out of bed and read it: “Thank you for last night, it meant the world to me. Needed to run an errand. Cover for me? Love, Rumi.”

You chewed your lip. A goodbye like this seemed uncharacteristic of her. You could only chalk it up to the events of last night.

You woke up inexplicably in the dead of night. 

It took a moment for your eyes to adjust. Groaning softly, you rolled to your side and noticed something was missing. The space next to you was cold. Your palm pressed down on the sheets, and you felt just the faintest bit of warmth. The room was still dark. The light under your bathroom door wasn’t on either. Rumi was missing, but she hadn’t been gone for very long.

The faint echoes of voices stream through your open window. Your legs toss over the side of the bed as you get up to peer outside. 

Rumi was speaking to a man with the same patterns as her. He stood confidently, a stark contrast to Rumi’s tense shoulders and brandished weapon. You couldn’t make out what they were saying, but figured it’d be in your best interest to keep quiet. 

The man said something that set her off. Her voice carried through the Honmoon’s barrier, just as it did in the bathroom. He says something that causes both of them to look up in your direction. You duck behind a wall in the nick of time. Curiosity had the best of you, but if you stood around for any longer, surely you’ll be caught. You took that as a sign to slip back into bed. 

The window creaks behind you. Soft footsteps hit the wood floors, so quiet that if it weren’t for the window you almost missed it. Your eyes cracked open wide enough to see the almost disheartened look on her face. Rumi said nothing after crawling back in. Maybe she didn’t see you. You wanted to comfort her, but didn’t want to give away the fact that you were awake the entire time. 

With your eyes closed, you threw an arm around her waist. She flinched before letting you relax against her. Rumi let out a small huff of a laugh. Mission accomplished. 

You willed yourself to sleep before she could suspect a thing.

Between the mysterious man and the weird note, you really just hoped Rumi was okay. You couldn’t shake off your  growing anxiety.

—

Ji-Hyun led Rumi to a small study at the back of the house. The more privacy the better.

“When your father came into the picture, we did not know him as Gwi-ma. He was a lighting technician for one of our venues.” Ji-Hyun shakes her head. “He entered our lives so seamlessly. Him and your mother had an instant connection. I didn’t have much of a problem with it. He was kind, romantic, and he seemed like a great fit for Miyeong. But Celine,” she chuckles, “I bet she wouldn’t have felt so strongly if she did not feel the exact same way for your mother.”

Rumi, quite literally, bluescreens. Malfunctions, if you will. Celine? And my mother? An error message pops into her head that says she’ll need appropriately one hour to boot back up again. Except an hour of processing time isn’t the kind of luxury she has right now.

Ji-Hyun grins at Rumi’s confusion. To her, it was no different than the expression she had in childhood when something new didn’t make sense to her the first time around. Knit eyebrows, jaw dropped, she hadn’t changed much.

“Ever since their trainee days. Celine always put others before herself. So when your mother began talking about this man who caught her eye, Celine pushed her feelings down, thinking it would just pass. She watched from afar as they grew closer and closer. As brave as she is, she couldn’t face the war between her heart and mind. She didn’t fight for her. And that was how she lost her.”

Adrenaline buzzes in the air around the Sunlight Sisters as they race backstage. Another concert for the books, another day of strengthening the Honmoon. Celine goes straight for the couch to catch her breath and calm her racing heart. Ji-Hyun plops herself down before a vanity, immediately reaching for the makeup wipes.

Miyeong is the last to join. She bounces in with a pep in her step, singing praises about everyone and heading straight towards the couch. Miyeong pulls Celine in for a side hug and rests her head in the crook of her neck. The corner of Celine’s lips twitches as she tries her best to hold back a smile.

Miyeong sighed, her breath fanning against the curve of Celine’s neck. “You were great out there, Cece!” Celine disliked nicknames, but didn’t seem to mind when it came from Miyeong. 

“As were you.” Celine simply murmurs. 

“She was more than great,” a voice cuts in. In walks him, standing tall and proud with a bouquet in his right hand. Miyeong springs back up to her feet, and Celine instantly misses her warmth. He pulls her into a hug. His smug eyes meet Celine’s over Miyeong’s shoulder. He smirks and leads her away from the rest of the group. 

Ji-Hyun watches the scene unfold from the sidelines, not noticing the look he shot at Celine before leaving. She gives Celine a knowing look, one that she catches onto quickly. Celine stares straight down. “My feelings… they will pass.”

“You keep saying that.” Ji-Hyun hands her a plastic water bottle. “And yet, it’s been ages.” Celine grips the water bottle so tightly it looks like the cap will burst clean off. “If Miyeong is happy, I’m happy. There are more important things to worry about.”

“Gwi-ma knew of her feelings and used them against her. This was his way in. If he could break Celine, break your mother, the Honmoon would fall with them. Celine felt a deep shame growing within her. She was closeted, and felt guilty for feeling such a way for someone who, she believed, didn’t have a chance with. And so with each day that her shame grew, so did the voices in her head. Every whisper of his plagued her. She was strong enough not to let them control her. She’s so resilient…but it only pushed Gwi-Ma into finding another way to torture her.”

“The day your mother told us she was pregnant with you, I’d never seen Celine look so…so defeated. She put on a smile and was there for Miyeong. Every time she saw them together, the thoughts in her head only became worse. That she would never be good enough to be Miyeong’s, that she should be ashamed of how she felt, I’m sure there were plenty more she never told me, but those were the ones she heard the most.

Their old training grounds were a sanctuary from the public eye. It was Celine’s favorite refuge. A place to train, to ponder, to simply be. Celine and Miyeong sat side by side under a massive tree older than both their ages combined. It provided enough shade to shield the two of them from the summer heat.

“He wants her to have a strong name. A powerful name. One fitting for the daughter of a Hunter.” 

Celine lightly scoffs, as she often did whenever Miyeong brought him up. “And what do you want?” 

Miyeong gazes at the horizon. “I want something based on my name, maybe a combination of mine and his.

Celine liked the former more than the latter. “Ryu Miyeong. Miyeong…Ryu…Ryu Mi. Rumi.” She looks down at Ryu for approval.

“Rumi.” Miyeong whispers, placing a hand on her belly. The action earns a soft kick and Miyeong can't hold back a smile. “I think she likes it.” Miyeong brings Celine’ hand to rest upon her stomach. The baby kicks once more, Celine grins.

“Rumi.”

“Rumi?” 

Ji-Hyun calls for her attention. “Still with me?” Rumi nods, still trying to keep up despite the truckload of information she’s getting. “Good.” Ji-Hyun returns to the story.

“Miyeong went into labor when I was out demon hunting. Celine stayed with her while I was gone. She rushed her to the hospital and contacted him to hurry. I can’t tell you how this moment played out since I was waiting outside the delivery room. But Celine and Miyeong told me that the second he held you in his arms, something in him changed. And I don’t mean the typical ‘I’m a father’, but something far more sinister.

“He became a lot more distant, disappearing to who knows where for hours at a time. He wasn’t the same soft spoken man from before. Miyeong didn’t have the strength at the time to fight with him, so we were there every step of the way. It wasn’t easy. Celine did so much for Miyeong and you: changing diapers without gagging at the smell, feeding you at night so Miyeong wouldn’t need to get out of bed. But with you having a demon for a father, there were signs.”

“Rumi’s always so quiet. She doesn’t cry often, and she’s starting to sleep through the entire night. What an angel she is! I’m gonna need to put a bell on her when she starts crawling.

“I always find her in the strangest places. Yesterday, I swore I had set her down in her crib, but I found her laying on the couch. Pregnancy brain fog, I guess…?”

“She’s so…warm. The doctors say she isn’t ill, but she’s always burning up. Call it mother’s intuition, but I just know something is wrong.”

“Eventually Gwi-Ma grew tired of Miyeong’s constant questioning. One night while she slept, he stole you from your crib and brought you to the demon realm.” She sighs, shaking her head. “Miyeong confronted him, Im still not sure how. He teleported to her in his same human disguise, but she knew better. He offered to exchange her soul for yours, letting you live in the overworld while she stayed in the demon realm. His goal was to use you as a weapon. A child bearing demonic heritage and hunter abilities would give him unimaginable power.”

Ji-Hyun sighs, “We were at a loss. If he took you, you’d grow up with the intent to destroy the Honmoon. If he took Miyeong, we’d be weaker. We weren’t ready to train the next generation. It was a losing game, and Gwi-Ma had been manipulating the odds since day one. Miyeong had to make a choice..”

Celine leaned back in her office chair with her legs crossed. Tomes old enough to be considered relics scattered across her desk. Celine pushed her pair of reading glasses further up on her nose, scanning through another segment about demonic powers when the door to her study slammed open. “Ji-Hyun, I told you I needed time to think…Miyeong?” 

Miyeong leans against the doorframe to catch her breath. Celine slams her book shut and rushes to her. Her eyes fell on the bundle in her arms. She pauses, eyebrows knitting together. It can’t be. “How did you…?”

“I don’t have much time to explain everything, he’s giving me just enough to talk to you.” Miyeong carefully places Rumi down on a cushioned sofa.

Celine’s heart drops to her stomach. “Miyeong, you didn’t…”

“I made a deal,” she confesses, “my life for hers. It was the only way.”

“The only way? The only way?! Miyeong, this is a foolish trade.” Celine paces the floor. “You can still call it off. We can do something–anything else, but not this.”

“Celine,” Miyeong stops her panicked pacing, “you know deep down there isn’t.” Celine looks away, blinking harshly. She pulls Miyeong in for a bone crushing embrace. Her shaky arms wrap around her shoulders in an attempt to keep Miyeong from seeing her tears. She holds on for dear life, as if she’ll disappear this very second.

“I can’t lose you.” She whispers.

Miyeong’s eyes soften. “You won’t. I’ll always be with you.” To Celine’s dismay, she pulls back, cupping her cheek. Celine leans into the touch. Miyeong turns Celine’s head to face Rumi.

“Protect her. Protect what’s left of me, and I will never be far away. I’ll be right here,” her hand slides over Celine’s heart, “and right here.”

Celine’s hand clutches Miyeong’s, keeping it against her. “We can still fix this.” Miyeong tilts her head to the side, nodding as if someone were speaking into her ear. “I’m on borrowed time. Whatever you do, no matter how you feel, don’t come looking for me. Don’t rescue me, don’t fight for me. Just…go on with your life without me.

Miyeong shoves Celine off her just as magenta flames engulf her body. “No, no!” 

“For Rumi.”

Celine’s hands grab onto nothing but air. Miyeong’s gone. She was too late. Celine looks down at her trembling hands in betrayal, silently cursing them out for being too slow—Cursing at herself for being too slow. All the reflex training in the world and she still couldn’t stop it. 

Rumi’s wailing breaks the silence in the room.

“Miyeong?” Hearing the baby cry, Ji-Hyun rushes in, hoping to find the two of them. But there’s only Celine, and baby Rumi laying down on the couch. Celine’s gaze hardens. With Ji-Hyun now in the room, she wills herself to snap out of it. Now is not the time for panic. She wipes at the few shed tears that escaped during her trance. Our thoughts and fears must never be seen repeats like a mantra in her head.

“We’re going to bring her back.”

“...I can’t blame her for choosing to stay. Now, as a mother myself, I’d go to the demon realm and back for my own children. But at the time, neither of us would ever let her make that sacrifice, especially Celine. She was the one who insisted on bringing Miyeong back herself. But for a plan like this, we needed help. Celine would venture into the demon realm to save Miyeong while I stayed back to protect the Honmoon. I called upon our predecessors for support. We expected a full scale invasion now that he believed there were only two of us standing. I couldn’t take the chance of his subjects overpowering me.”

“I didn’t think going to the demon realm would be possible.”

“It was only possible because of her will to keep the two of you safe. When the first demon that night tore through the Honmoon, Celine forced his body into our world and jumped through the portal before it could close. What happened after I only know from bits and pieces of her explanations. What I know for certain is, ever since she jumped, she was never the same.

Celine’s body hit the ground with a loud thud. The portal she ventured through spewed her body out at the edge of a crowd. She brushed rubble off her cloak as she stood. Her heart pounded upon seeing the sheer amount of demons in front of her—All claws and teeth. She stepped backwards until the heel of her shoe dipped in water.

She turned and caught her reflection in a murky pool. Bright yellow contacts glinted in the water. Pigmented purple patterns crept up her arms and neck, drawn earlier with a little help from Ji-Hyun. Her only weapon, a machete blessed by a shaman, hid underneath her cloak. It was all she had for protection. This realm was a place where the Honmoon did not reach. Her powers are weak here, and she needs to rely on physical weapons in case the worst happens.

Her reflection ripples. The head of a water demon pokes out, its face half submerged as it looks up at her. Celine gasps, tightening the cloak around her body before walking away 

She avoids looking at the wall of pink flames burning on the top of a rock platform as she weaves her way past different demonic forms. A voice yells out from a small hut, a voice she can pick out from any crowd no matter how large.

Celine stealthily creeps her way towards the direction of the tent. Two demons stand at the entrance with weapons as long as her body, but the back is left unguarded. Celine slips through the flaps and lets out a sigh of relief when she sees her.

Miyeong’s tugging at the binds that keep her tied to a post. She lets out small grunts with every tug but stops when she looks behind her. “Celine?” She whispers.

Celine wordlessly drops down to untie the knots. “I should have known you’d come looking for me. I told you it wasn’t safe. You could’ve been caught, gotten hurt, or even—“ her words die out in her throat as Celine pulls her into a hug so tight Miyeong nearly topples backwards. Celine melts into her embrace, allowing herself to feel whole again just for a moment.

“I’m going to get you out of here. Wear this.” Celine hands her a spare cloak similar to the one she’s currently wearing. As they walk, Celine explains to her the plan. “We suspect Gwi-Ma will be launching an attack. We’ll find a demon to tag along with, and when we step through the portal, we’ll be back home.”

Miyeong’s hand finds Celine’s as they walk. News of her disappearance was already starting to reach them. Murmurings in the crowd grow louder. 

“She escaped.”

 “The woman tore off her restraints.”

“She can be anywhere, start searching!”

Just a bit further—

A clawed hand grips Celine by the shoulder. She lets out a breath, her pupils dilating with panic. She turns and looks up at the 6ft tall demon. He scrutinizes her: She doesn’t smell like the dead, the rosy flush in her cheeks looked a little too warm. And those patterns…they were lifeless. They didn’t glow when she was pulled back. The demon knew immediately what she was. “Intruder!”

Celine slices a gash along its stomach before the demon’s club could reign down her. At the sound of his cry, more demons began to encircle around Celine. The two women separate. Miyeong was pushed to the edge of the crowd while Celine stood her ground. “Go!” She shouted.

The image of Miyeong running away gets blocked by a water demon heading straight for Celine. At the very least, she knows Miyeong is out of harm's way, even if it’s just for the moment.

Celine’s cloak falls to the floor. There was no use in hiding now. She needed her full range of motion anyways. Nothing can stop her from protecting Miyeong.

Celine’s blade slashes through demon after demon, each death creating thick clouds of pink dust until the mist engulfs the space around her body. There’s too many. She could no longer see what was in front of her. Glowing yellow eyes were the only indication of where to strike next. 

Her eyes strain against the haze. The fog begins to clear up as muscles cry out from over exertion. Celine feels a presence behind her and strikes without looking. She pauses when her blade pierced through something solid. A choked gasp, a thud on the ground. Celine’s expression morphs to one of horror. 

Ryu crumbles to the ground, the sharp blade impaling her center. “No!” Celine drops to her knees before her. “No, no, no, no, no, Miyeong? Miyeong—“ her voice cracks as Celine cups her cheeks. Miyeong’s eyes are lidded, her hands hover over the wound. 

“Celine.”

“I didn’t mean…I thought you were one of them I–”

“Celine.” Miyeong tries to steady her voice, but it comes out just as weak as her body is. Her gaze meets Celine’s panicked eyes. “I–I can carry you…I can still fix this. I just wanted you back.”

“We both know this is it.”

Tears fall down Celine’s cheeks as she shakes her head. She smoothes Miyeong’s hair out of her face, letting her hand linger on the side of her cheek. 

“I should have known not to sneak up on a hunter. You always hated surprises.” Miyeong lets out a sorrowful mix between a laugh and a sob. “I stand by everything I said. Protect Rumi, no matter what.” Her hand clasps over Celine’s.

“You’ve always been my dearest friend.”

“Miyeong, I lov—“ 

“No!” A voice roars out. She turns, Gwi-Ma is coming to a stop in his human form. “Miyeong,” he gasps, kneeling down next to her. He looks at the wound, then at Celine, his eyes as fiery as his natural form. 

“What did you do!?”

Rage builds within Celine as he squats down next to her. Miyeong’s dying breaths should not be wasted on him. The dimming light behind Miyeong’s eyes distracts him from Celine’s murderous glare. She can end it right here, right now. One quick movement forward and she can slit his throat.

Miyeong makes a sound that causes Celine to look back down. Their eyes meet. 

“Go.” Miyeong mouths.

Celine allows herself one final moment to memorize Miyeong’s face one last time. They say you should always remember the best versions of your loved ones before they pass, but Celine has a feeling this moment will haunt her for the rest of her life. With a heavy heart, Celine doesn’t waste a second longer. She closes her eyes and inhales, running past a hoard of demons in the direction of an opening portal. Salty tears stream down her face. She slashes through demons as she runs, no longer caring about what it is she’s killing. The light for the portal becomes closer and closer, before zipping closed abruptly.

Gwi-Ma appears before her, his eyes burning through her very soul. “You don’t deserve the mercy of death by my hand,” he starts, "Instead, I want you to be reminded of that moment every day for the rest of your miserable fucking life. I want you to suffocate under the guilt of what you did, of who you are. You are going to feel so vile that I won’t feel the need to be in your ear any longer.”

He snaps his fingers, and a portal opens up to him.

“Run.”

Celine makes a break for it. She flies through the portal and her feet hit the ground with a soft thud. She breathes. Then, rightfully, lost it.

“Her wails were loud enough to be heard from miles away. They lasted for days, some cries louder than others. On the nights where Celine managed to get some sleep, she would wake up in the middle of the night screaming, calling Miyeong’s name, sometimes yours. When we finally put up the tombstone, that’s where she would sleep. She felt undeserving of a bed. And even though there was no body buried underneath the grass, Celine felt closer to Miyeong this way.”

Ji-Hyun reaches for Rumi’s hands. “She’s hard on you because she knows firsthand how easily he could sink his claws in your mind. It happened to her, and she didn’t want the same for you. Hiding this from you…it's not just her way of protecting you from the truth, but herself of the pain she’s caused. I know in your heart you understand.”

—

At midday your phone lit up with a text from Zoey.

Urgent!! Emergency!! Come to the dorm┏( ゜)ਊ゜)┛

Panic coursed through you. You dropped everything and rushed to the penthouse, your mind ran a mile a minute over what could possibly be wrong. Zoey’s never used the word urgent with you before. Maybe someone was hurt, you didn’t have the medical training for something like that. The agonizingly slow ride up the elevator couldn’t have felt longer. When the doors opened, you bolted out, eyes settling on the scene before you.

The smell hit you first. The intoxicating aroma of freshly made food wafted through the room. Porcelain plates and bowls were spread out on the table like a captivating buffet. Zoey waved from her spot at the table. Next to her, Mira lifted her chin as a nod to greet you. Zoey bounces off her seat to bring you to their table.

“Come, sit down and eat with us!” You take a seat, “This was the emergency you were talking about?” At least they’re safe, you think to yourself.

“Yes! Technically this is an emergency. We can’t finish this alone. Rumi’s off seeing Celine about something so we needed to call in reinforcements. Here, try the japchae, it’s to die for.” Zoey places some on your plate for you. She rambles on about who made what with every dish she recommends. She doesn’t stop when your plate gets full, and you’re mentally making a list of what to try next. Just as you’re about to take a bite, Mira’s voice breaks your train of thought.

“So what are your intentions with Rumi?”

You pause mid chew. You didn’t expect this to turn into interrogation of all things. The homey food, Zoey’s energetic mood, all things that lulled into a false sense of security. “Why—Why do you ask?”

“I’ve never seen Rumi interested in anyone,” Zoey smiles fondly, “She always says she’s too busy to consider being in a relationship. But with you, it’s different. It’s so exciting!!”

“You should’ve seen her this morning when we started asking about you.” Mira shakes her head with a smirk. “She got so red when we asked if anything happened between the two of you last night. I don’t think she even realized she was smiling once we stopped teasing her.”

“Like she was glowing.” Zoey adds, smiling at Mira before turning to you. “She’s our family, and besides Celine, we’re the only one she’s got. We just don’t want you to break her heart.”

“If you do, I’ll—,“ “We’re good judges of character!” Zoey exclaims, “And I’m sure you’ll treat her well. But you should also know that I have five whole notebooks filled with tactics to rip apart—" 

“I think I get the idea guys.” You laugh nervously, gulping down some water.

“Things have been pretty off with her lately, she hasn’t told us what, and we are starting to think maybe it’s because she’s realizing she has feelings for you. But don’t tell her we said this to you, okay?”

“There is one more thing we should add.” The two become serious in an instant. “Since you’re our assistant manager and work closely with Bobby, we thought you should know about our relationship.” Mira smiles at Zoey with a fondness you've never seen. Zoey stares back with a similar expression. 

“We haven’t been together for long,” Mira starts, “We started dating a little after the meet and greet. Only Bobby knows.” 

“And some people on the PR team too,” Zoey flushes. “We really need to give them a raise.”

“Rumi doesn’t know?” You look between the two of them. 

“Yeah, it’s a miracle she’s that oblivious.” 

“She’s been so stressed with the Saja Boys and the idol awards coming up. We’re planning on telling her once everything’s settled down. But we wanted to tell you now because we wanted you to hear it from us, not Bobby or one of the PR team members.”

That makes sense. “Thank you for telling me about this. I know relationships as idols can be difficult, especially between same sex couples. It means a lot to have your trust.”

The two smile at you. The three of you go back to eating over light conversation. Mira and Zoey banter the most, now at ease with showing affection around you. Mira’s hand intertwined with Zoey’s and you can’t help the smile creeping up your face. The image however conjures just the slightest bit of jealousy—not for them, but of what they have. Your mind drifts back to Rumi, hoping she’s okay wherever she is.

—

Rumi spent a whole hour outside the cottage taking everything in. She probably experienced all 5 stages of grief twice as she paced around a small garden. At first she wanted to deny it all, but there really was no use in doing so. Then, she was angry. Angry at Gwi-Ma for starting all this, angry at Celine for killing her mom even though she knows it wasn’t intentional. Most of all, she was angry at circumstance; the what ifs clouded her mind as she thought about how differently things could’ve turned out if there were more honesty. That had her thinking about her own situation, which led her to skip bargaining and go straight to depression.

She laid down on the grassy floor until it felt like time no longer existed. At one point she almost fell asleep with Ji-Hyun nudging her awake to come back inside before Rumi gains a new nasty sunburn.

Ji-Hyun had prepared lunch while Rumi was outside processing. She slid a box of all old pictures across the table towards Rumi’s direction. It was filled to the brim with small Polaroids of Rumi as a baby and in her youth.

Rumi flips through the stack of loose photos. It was still a lot to take in. The pictures of her and her mother collected dust at the bottom of the box. The rest were either stand alone photos of just Rumi or her posing with Celine. There were very few of her and Ji-Hyun together, and even less featuring all three. Rumi stops on one particular photo, and needs to bring it closer to her face for her to believe it.

This can’t be.

A young Rumi sat cross legged on a wooden bench with a small shark plushie in her lap. Her bashful smile wasn’t directed at the camera, but rather at a person. Another girl’s arms hooked around her shoulders in a playful hug. The Polaroid captured Rumi’s widened eyes right as yours smiled directly at the camera, directly at her in present day. Rumi holds the Polaroid in her hands like it’s something sacred. 

“When was this?”

Ji-Hyun looks up from the photo in her hands. “I can’t forget that day even if I tried.” She sighs wistfully, picking up the photo. “That was the incident that broke the camel’s back.”

Idols’ Recitals—An annual event sponsored by big name production agencies as a way for aspiring idols to find likeminded individuals who share the same dreams and passions. Or more commonly known as: A way for parents to rub elbows with different companies early on. Networking events such as this were common at this point in your life. This is your second year at age seven, so you can basically classify yourself as a certified expert now. 

You noticed her because it was a hot summer’s day.

She was the only kid who, instead of wearing a pastel dress or a simple t-shirt, wore a shirt with sleeves that stopped just below the elbow. You briefly questioned her outfit choice before turning back to your parents who were socializing with their adult friends.

“I wanna play with her mama. She looks sad.” Her nose crinkles when she sees who it is you’re pointing at.. “Why don’t you go play with the other children? That one right there…she's a bad omen.”

“Bah, let her. If they make friends, we’ll get to talk with the one woman here who’s worth our time.”

Mingling with the other kids only made you feel alone. On the surface they were fun; they played games with you, made easy banter, but still held the typical snobbishness you’d expect from these types of families. You were only half paying attention to the conversation until the topic turned to the girl who’s been sitting alone on a bench this entire time.

“Who is she?” You can’t help but ask. Most of the people around you you recognize, be it because of last year’s event or because you ran in the same circles. You’d never seen her before. You would have definitely remembered someone with such a pretty hair color.

“That’s Rumi. Everyone thinks she’s weird, but she was raised by the Sunlight Sisters, her mom was one too. My parents told me that I should try to be friends with her. But she doesn’t want to talk to anyone. What a freak.”

The young boy’s words angered you instantly. Who was he to talk badly about someone for no reason at all? This was the perfect time, in your opinion, to use the words your parents often said as insults. “That’s mean. You’re a piece of shit for calling her that.” You smile proudly, reveling at how the boy spat out his drink all over his shirt. Consequences be damned. You didn’t care about her status, her idol potential, she was a kid like the rest of them.

Not wanting to make a scene, you stomped off towards the deserts table. You’d never hear the end of it if his parents told yours. You glanced over your shoulder towards Rumi. 

Someone dressed like that would surely be warm. You lifted open a nearby cooler. Before you laid an assortment of different packaged ice creams and popsicles. The cold ice stung your hand as you reached for two small mango flavored popsicles. You found your way to the mysterious purple haired girl and sat down. She looks at you with surprise; no introduction, no pleasantries, just you sitting as if the two of you were longtime friends.

You hold out a popsicle to her. “It's hot. This will cool you down.” After she takes it, you rip your own open. “You’re Rumi, right?” you ask.

“I am, what about you?”

“I’m Y/N.” 

“Thank you, Y/N.” 

“Why do you look so sad?” “I’m not sad.” Rumi opens the packaging of her popsicle. “I feel like I shouldn’t be here. My aunt brought me here to meet people, but everyone seems so…” she sighs.

“How come you aren’t with the others?” she asks. You shrug, “I don’t like them. They’re very mean. I don’t like being friends with mean people. What about you? How come you aren’t with them?”

Rumi shrugs. “I think they’re scared of me. They all say nice things, but they act differently. 

You plop your comfort toy right on her lap. “Sharks look scary too, but a lot are actually sweet. I want you to keep him. His name is Tails.”

“Like from Sonic?”

“No, he’s a nurse shark, not a hedgehog.” You point to the end of the plushie, “His tail fin is like, as long as his body,” You spread open your arms to demonstrate how long. “My nanny bought him for me when we went to an aquarium together. I hold him when I’m scared or nervous, and now he gets to be there for you too.

Rumi looks up at you. Her eyes were glossy. If you didn’t know any better, you’d think she would start to cry. She hugs the plushie close to her chest and murmurs a small thank you. 

“Are you gonna watch the talent show?” You ask. She nods, her brain bobbing up and down, “I didn’t sign up to sing though. Did you?”

You bite the inside of your cheek. It’s rare you have a large audience when you sing. Being in front of such a big crowd wasn’t easy. “Yeah, I’m a little scared.”

“Then me and Tails will promise to cheer you on.” That makes you smile. You knew at the very least your time slot was at 2:30, which was less than 15 minutes from now. 

An older woman stops in front of the two of you. “Rumi! I see you’ve made a new friend. Wanna take a photo together?”

She looks at you, wondering if you were okay with the idea, okay with being considered her friend. You smile at the camera and lean into her side. Rumi holds Tails in her lap and smiles, looking right at you. The bright flash blinds your eyes, and you can’t help but let out a small laugh.

You hear your name be called out from inside, most likely by your parents. You quickly turn to Rumi with wide eyes. “I have to go now. Wish me luck. See you soon.” 

“Bye, good luck…” Rumi says shyly before you depart.

When you find yourself back inside, your parents rush to get yourself prepared. You go over the song: an old lullaby with words you didn’t fully understand but had studied the days leading up to the event. Your parents expected nothing but perfection. It was just a lullaby, but it felt like life or death.

They left you backstage to go on next. A door backstage was left ajar that opened to the back of the building. Warm sunlight filtered through. Small dust particles floated through the air. You tried your best to calm your nerves, your mind drifting back to the friend you made earlier. She and Tails would be there to cheer you on. You got this.

A commotion outside distracts your focus. Was that…yelling? You still had a couple minutes before going on. You peeked around the corner and saw two women arguing, with Rumi caught in the middle. Both women look familiar, but you can’t pinpoint from where.

“You never listen. These are things you’re supposed to discuss with me.”

“She’s young! And stays cooped up in the mountains all day with you all the time. She needs to live a little, meet people her own age who share the same interests and goals as her.”

“Have you forgotten she’s already starting to show? She can be exposed in a place like this. You don’t seem to realize that Rumi isn’t…she isn’t a regular kid.” 

“Don’t you want her to be human?”

Celine stiffens. Human, the very thing this child can never truly be. Her heart aches for Rumi, but the fact remains. Celine needs to protect Rumi from herself and others, and the only way to do that is through Rumi’s future generation of hunters. But there’s no future for her or the Honmoon if people find out what she really is.

“You know something like this is a risk we can’t take right now.”

“So we sacrifice her childhood?”

“Don’t you ever talk to me about sacrifice.” Celine grits out. She rubs the bridge of her nose with two fingers. “How are we supposed to maintain the Honmoon when we can’t even raise a child.”

“Maybe that’s the problem. We can’t…we can’t do this together anymore, not like we used to, not without her.” Ji-Hyun tightens her arms around herself. “We’ll split the work. You and I both know we can’t do this alone. We’ll sing a few songs, slay some demons, and return to our separate lives. You will raise Rumi, and we can stop acting like we can stand being in the same room anymore.”

What’s left of Celine’s heart cracks a little. They’ve tried so hard for so many years. Celine can’t help but feel like she’s failing Miyeong again from beyond the grave.

“Look, we can’t protect the Honmoon alone. But you need to protect her, or else Miyeong’s sacrifice will be in vain.”

Ji-Hyun storms off. Celine smoothes her heart over her shirt. She whispers, to herself, to the void: “I can’t do this without you, Miyeong.”

Celine collects herself with a deep sigh. She looks back and sees that Rumi is no longer with her.

“Rumi?”

Celine looks around, but there’s no sight of the purple haired girl. Impossible, she was just here. “Rumi?!”

Rumi’s back pressed against a sturdy tree trunk. She sunk to the floor, mud clinging to the fabric over her knees. Her arms hugged her new shark plushie as she desperately tried to wipe away the few tears streaming down her cheeks. You looked between her and the curtain wall, and deemed it was more important to help a friend in need than to impress a bunch of strangers. You walked up to her once the other woman left.

She watched as you plopped down next to her wordlessly. Your presence helped her breathe a little easier. Rumi hastily wiped away a few remaining tears and sniffed. “I’m sorry I didn’t get to see you perform."

“It’s okay. I was going to go on, but you looked like you needed a friend. This is more important.” Knowing your parents, there would be countless opportunities for you in the future. You would just have to endure the consequences of skipping this one time.

“What did she mean when she said you’re not human?”

Rumi chews her lip. She can’t say it, Celine told her she can’t tell anyone about what she is. “It’s just something she says.”

“Okay.”

You remain quiet, not exactly sure what to say to comfort hurt, and instead let Rumi lead the conversation. Your hands pick at the grass, tearing out small blades from the earth one by one as you wait.

“I live with my aunt Celine because my mom died.” Oh. Rumi brushes back the fabric of the plushie to reveal its small beaded eyes. “She died when I was a baby. Auntie Celine and Auntie Ji-Hyun don’t get along very well, I’m pretty sure it’s my fault. I feel like such a burden to them.”

“You aren’t a burden.” You reassure Rumi. “We haven't been friends for very long, but I know you are kind. And if you’re here, then I’m sure you’re talented too.. If…if it helps, sometimes I wonder if I’m like that for my parents too…but I know they love me, and I’m sure your auntie does too. In her own way.”

“Sometimes I don’t think she does.” Rumi admits.

You frown, unsure of what to say. It's rare you’re given the chance to comfort others like this. You’re not used to talking about such heartfelt topics. Your mind runs a mile a minute with ideas until you suddenly find yourself saying…

“I love you.”

Rumi blinks. “What?”

“I said I love you.” 

“But…we don’t know each other.” 

“I love the ocean. And I love music. I love…ice cream, cats, and the rain. So why can’t I love you?”

Love has always been conditional for Rumi. I love you, Celine would say, but never about her demon side. I love half of you, but not all of you. 

But with you, you say it so easily, as if it were as easy as breathing. Before she can say anything in return, a voice bellows out from another side of the building.

“Y/N!” 

Your mother. 

Your eyes widened in pure childlike terror. “I have to go! But, uh, believe in yourself! Goodbye, I love you!” You race off towards the direction of your mother’s voice, leaving Rumi feeling so much better.

You were later reprimanded for both dirtying up your clothes and missing your performance on purpose. But it was worth it. As you expected, they managed to secure you another time slot from a kid who didn’t show up. You didn’t see her face the rest of that day, or in the few years after. With how in a rush you were, you never found a means to stay in contact. 

Vague flashes come to Rumi the more she stares at the photo. Her memory was blurry. 

“Actually, I think I have something for you.” 

Ji-Hyun disappears back into her study and comes out holding that same shark plushie shown in the photo. She looks down at it and sighs.

“The responsibility, for both the Honmoon and you, fell onto both of us. But I just…couldn’t. I was tired. And I couldn’t trust her. I couldn’t call her sister anymore.”

Ji-Hyun sets the plushie down on the table. “I…regret not trying harder to keep us together. We took a break in our careers to raise you, but we both had incredibly different ideas on how to do so. When your patterns began to show, she fed you the idea that they should be something to be kept hidden. I didn’t agree with this. At the time I couldn’t articulate why, but as a mother now, ideas like that will do no good for a child.”

Ji-Hyun places a comforting hand on Rumi’s. “You’re special, Rumi. I accept you for who you are, and I’m sorry you couldn’t grow up with that same kind of acceptance.” She pulled Rumi in for a long hug, the kind of hug Rumi’s waited years for. 

They stayed like that for as long as Rumi needed.

—

It was now time for Rumi to bid farewell and return to the dorm. Hours had passed with her phone turned off, it was about time to finally face reality again. Ji-Hyun offered to walk or drive her back to the station, but Rumi declined, wanting to use the time to think things over. Her movements feel sluggish. Not tired-sluggish, but the same kind of slowness that makes her feel if she were dreaming. The whole day doesn’t feel real to her. One life changing afternoon later she’s hopping onto the train in a trance-like state, acting like a zombie as she trudges to her assigned cabin.

She flopped back onto the cushioned seats. Rumi’s mind was still reeling from all that she learned. A bone-deep exhaustion settled over her. She’s tired of running, tired of hiding. She needed to come clean. To her family, to Celine, and most of all, to you.

But more than anything right now, the relief of just a bit of closure relaxed her tense muscles. It didn’t take long for her to succumb to a much needed nap.

—

Rumi jolted awake after a sharp turn smacked her head against the window. She groans softly and squints at the time on her phone. 4:15. She looks around and pushes herself up to her feet, still groggy.

She needs coffee. And to stretch her legs. 

Earlier she passed by a cafe bar in one of the train cars. Rumi stumbles out the cabin doors to venture out, passing by other private cabins until she finds herself in an open seating area. The hoodie’s drawstrings enclose around the sides of her face before ordering. Her fingers tap on the counter absentmindedly while she waits. One particular conversation draws her wandering attention.

“Rumi’s always been my bias!” A teen exclaims from a small table right as Rumi’s given her drink. “I always felt connected to her and now I know why!”

Another joins in, “This just proves Huntrix is my favorite K-pop girl group.” She smiles to herself, taking a sip of her coffee.

“I can’t believe they’re all gay!” 

Rumi spits out her drink.

Taglist: @blazemaster4014 , @ang3lz-lov3 , @rainbowmess823 , @honney-bonny , @tell-me-whyyyy-am-i-here , @thestarseternal , @tinysoap , @pr0bablyr0se @coraldiplomatvoidhoagie-blog , @solardvst , @mvskedxrtist , @rileigh519 , @buzzinkhaleesi , @drpepperobsessed , @mysticsportsflapfriend , @left-and-right-up-and-down , @loftilydirevoid , @severelyuniquereview @wickedpyro, @fruityg0rl , @rinapomu , @kisekiworker , @nev-valkyriesdottir , @notheroverthinker , @velvetinkbym , @tyresedidjsfart , @beaflyy , @rujinuuuu , @stuxxnioe , @dyziot

Bonus from my friend:

Rumi’s week was especially draining.

New tears in the Honmoon’s shield were forming by the day, the Saja Boys won yet another weekly award for their “captivating vocals” in Soda Pop, and Takedown—the one song responsible for saving the world from a demon invasion—Rumi is starting to question.

Rumi has spent the last few hours running herself ragged in a dance studio downstairs from the penthouse. Sweat dripped down her forehead with every precise movement. She can’t remember the last time she took a break. Rumi vaguely recalls chugging the last of her water while staring down at Takedown’s lyric sheet before getting back to work, but that was a while ago.

It wasn’t long before you walked into the practice room bearing a large water bottle. A concerned text from Bobby, who hasn’t heard from Rumi since she started practice, was all you needed to know. Rumi meets your eyes in the floor-to-ceiling mirror. Your smile dims upon seeing her. The exhaustion in her eyes was as clear as day. “You seem a little off.” You hand over the bottle. Knowing Rumi, she probably hasn’t been taking much care of herself while practicing.

Rumi frowns at her reflection. “I just don’t know how I feel about the song. It’s so…hateful.” She picks up a page featuring the second verse of Takedown.

She lets it slip out of her hands when you grasp the corner of the paper, taking it away from her. You set the page aside. “I think you need some time away from looking at these lyrics. Give Takedown and the Saja Boys a rest just for one day. When’s the last time you did something fun?”

Rumi’s eyebrows knit together. She’s always been a workaholic, never the type to fully relax for too long. But she knew that staring at these lyrics for any longer or forcing her body through more hours of unnecessary practice wasn’t going to fix her problem. Still, she’d have no idea what to do with herself. She turns to you and recognizes that look in your eyes. “What do you have in mind?”

“A place I like going to when I’m stressed and need to relax, I just need to make a few calls.”

The drive to your mystery destination surprised her. It was very close to the area you lived in, which, at this hour, wasn’t as lively as usual. You promised Rumi that her disguise wouldn’t be necessary once inside, which only piqued her interest even further. But still, she didn’t want to take any chances. The drawstring hoodie she was sporting was the best precaution she could take to hide her identity while she was outside. Her hair could be recognized from a mile away.

Rumi looks up at the sign above the building when the two of you finally arrive. “An aquarium?” You nod, an excited smile gracing your lips. “It’s technically closed, but I was able to rent it for about 2 hours. You can drop the hood when we get inside.”

A man at the entrance unlocks the building’s doors after checking both your IDs. Immediately, the color blue floods the room. Large tanks line the walls, each displaying small fish of different shapes and colors. You skip past the large map outlined on the wall. Having come here so often, you already know your way around by memory alone.

With each exhibit you come across, Rumi was actually starting to feel all the tension leave her body, though it seems it’s always like that when she’s with you. All the while, you spewed out ocean facts as if you were one of the aquarium's licensed tour guides. Rumi soaked up all the information with a smile on her face. You were no different from Zoey, she realizes. When the two of you found yourselves at the sea turtle exhibit, Rumi took a couple photos to send to Zoey, who then demanded to know why she wasn’t invited. You take a break to use the bathroom while she texts.

I’m here with Y/N.

Rumi quickly types out. Her phone buzzes immediately.

YOU’RE ON A DATE (｢ ⊙Д⊙)｢ ?!??

Rumi’s heart skips a beat. Was this a date?? No, surely not. This is just an outing between friends.

I don’t think it is…?

Zoey and Mira have always teased her for her oblivious nature. Rumi can tell when a person is outright into her. She's everyone’s type after all. But sometimes, she misses the subtlety. Every now and then, Zoey has had to point out that when someone says one thing, they actually mean another. Was this one of those times?

Crap. Crap. Rumi’s never been on a date. She’s never wanted to date while she still had her patterns. But what if this was a date she accidentally agreed to? If it is, what if she’s doing a date wrong? She hasn’t been very date hospitable.

Zoey, what if this is a date? What do I do?

As she waits for a response Rumi types into google: ‘Do they sell flowers at aquariums?’

HANG ON MIRA OWES ME $20!

They were betting on me?! She watched the bubbles move up and down as she anxiously waited for a response.

Okay okay you should talk like her as you do with a friend but make it more flirty. Show her that you’re interested!! Compliment her, maybe hold her, buy things for her, stuff like that.

By now, you guys were only halfway through the entire aquarium, which would give her very little time to act. Rumi decided, date or not, she would do exactly as Zoey says, in that exact order. Rumi slipped her phone into her back pocket when you returned. You took her hand and led her to the next enclosure. This was gonna be hard.

Rumi began overthinking in the shark exhibit. Say this was a date, and she needed to compliment you, there were just too many things she could compliment you on. Where could she even begin? Your features? Your style? Your personality?

She tried her best to still be engaging as she led you down the designated path. It sloped down to a glass tunnel underneath the water where the sharks swam above and around you. Your eyes glinted at the sight. Rumi firmly believed eyes were the windows to the soul, and yours have always been expressive. You glow when the conversation shifts to something you love. It was one of the first things Rumi noticed when she started getting to know you better.

She could always save herself the embarrassment and toss herself in the shark pool. Rumi contemplates the idea. It would probably feel 10 times better than the anxiety she feels right now.

“You’re always so captivating when you’re talking about something you’re passionate about.”

Shark pools it is. Huntr/x star Rumi Nim dead at 28 because she was scared to compliment a pretty girl. You startle her spiraling thoughts with an airy laugh. You give her a shy “thank you,” before continuing on. Rumi mentally cheers. One down, two to go.

At the penguins, Rumi contemplates how she’s supposed to initiate the second phase of the plan. You held her hand earlier, maybe she can do the same? She attempts to do so, but you don’t stay still long enough for her to “subtly” graze her hand against yours.

The exhibit leads you to a corridor containing a long conveyor belt. Darkness bathed the entire room, lit by only red lightbulbs inside the enclosure. The red lighting, as you explained to Rumi, was meant to help simulate the natural light cycles found in an Arctic environment. The track moves you two along a glass wall that separates the 50 or so penguins waddling around inside. Below you, the floor hits a snag, making Rumi briefly lose her balance. You’re quick to put an arm around Rumi’s waist to steady her, and you don’t drop it when the conveyor belt starts back up again.

This counts, Rumi convinces herself.

Later on, you stopped at a boba stand next to an octopus enclosure. Buy her things Zoey had said. Many of the staff offered to stay after hours to cater to your guys’ needs. Probably to catch a glimpse of Rumi no doubt–it’s a good thing you had all the NDAs taken care of beforehand–but at least each one of them were kind and respectful. When the two of you stopped at the small kiosk, the man behind the register was grinning ear to ear the entire time. It was almost unnerving. But that’s what any fan would be like, you suppose.

Eventually, you find yourselves at everyone’s favorite area: the gift shop. “Rumi, look at this manta ray! Isn’t it cute?” You exclaim, holding one up to her face. It was soft and weighted, with two large beady eyes. “We should each get one.”

Rumi’s room was sparsely decorated. The furniture were the main pieces she picked out herself. Unlike Zoey, whose shelves were filled to the brim with trinkets and figurines, or Mira, who shelved a couple books, Rumi’s were completely bare. Unless she counts Dr. Han’s tonic box. Other than that, her room, for the most part, looks almost similar to the day they moved in. Maybe it could use a bit more decor.

She scans the selection of stuffed animals, both weighted and unweighted. Rumi buys one stuffed animal each: the manta ray for you and a penguin for her. With your bags and boba in hand, you both sit on a bench to admire the jellyfish.

“You were right, this is relaxing.” Rumi sighs, laying back against the bench. While it’s true Rumi spent a good chunk of their hangout stressing over whether this was a date or not, she had fun regardless. Because for some reason, as long as she was with you, she felt at ease. “I knew you’d like it.”

The intercom blares throughout the building. “Jongyeonghaneun bangmungaeg yeoleobun, sujoggwan-eun 15bun hue mun-eul dadseubnida. / Attention esteemed visitors, the aquarium will be closing in 15 minutes.”

Rumi looks around the empty dome-shaped exhibit. Half was concrete, the other a glass display with a pink and purple jellyfish. “You know, the acoustics in here would sound amazing.” Her thumb tentatively traces along the slope of her patterned neck where her vocal cords would be. Rumi clears her throat, wanting to test out the lyrics to Golden in the exhibit.

“I was a ghost, I was alone. Eoduwojin, abgil sog-e”

Her voice lacks the initial force sung at the beginning of the song. The mellow tone reminds you of those unreleased acoustic versions artists release after a song hits big. Before she can sing the next line, you join in. “Given the throne I didn’t know how to believe I was the queen I was meant to be.”

Rumi’s jaw drops in awe. Her gaze became fixated on you and you alone. You realize she’s never heard you sing before. You can’t help but hold back a smile as the two of you sing to the end of the chorus.

You smile sheepishly when you notice she’s still staring at you with a mix of wonder and shock. “What’s with that look?”

“Your voice…I didn’t know you could sing like that.” She replies, still mesmerized. Rumi remembers you mentioning your vocal abilities in passing, but she’s never heard you sing. “You have a gift.” You stare straight ahead, seeing the flush in your cheeks in your reflection in the glass.

“I was practically an idol trainee since birth. I’ve put in a lot of work to perfect my voice.”

Rumi’s expression softens. She can relate. Celine never gave her more than she could handle, but growing up, she always felt that the weight of the world was on her shoulders. The expectation of becoming a hunter, of sealing the Honmoon, and of ridding herself of these patterns forever…

“I see how hard you work, Rumi. But I’ve gone down that same path before. You’re going to burn yourself out if you keep pushing yourself. If I’ve learned anything from my past, it would be this: You’re more than an idol, more than a hunter. You’re, well, you’re you, Rumi. You’re more than your expectations.”

A loud thud shakes the glass in front of them, startling both of you. The jellyfish part ways for Derpy who’s swimming in the display. He smiles at you guys innocently with those same glowing yellow eyes. Sussy is nowhere to be seen, but no doubt he’s hiding somewhere in the vicinity, away from Derpy’s antics. Air blows through Rumi’s nose in a quiet laugh while you just shake your head fondly.

“Come on, I think our time is up now.”

The exit sign was now in view. Rumi vaguely wonders how most dates are supposed to end. Is she supposed to make a move? What if it was just a friendly outing? She doesn’t want to ruin what she has with you. The two of you wave goodbye to the remaining staff and step out onto the entrance platform. Rumi turns to you.

“Thank you for doing this. Knowing me, I’d still be cooped up in the studio stressing over Takedown. It means a lot to me.” You mean a lot to me.

“Anything for a friend.”

A friend.

Before she can dwell on that word for very long, a tear in the Honmoon rips open right above them. Now? Rumi pushes herself to stand before you, outstretching her arm in front of your body as a futile means of protection. You stare wide-eyed at the demons crawling through the cracks. This tear is huge compared to the one you saw that first night. Each demonic lifeform that spills out blurs into the rest until you can’t pick out any one of them individually. Their giant mass towers over the both of you.

You look over to Rumi. Her pupils are dilated as hell. She summons her saingeom and begins slashing through them one by one. She yells for you to flee, but you can't just leave her here. You feel claws dig into your shoulders as one pounces on you from behind. You reach behind your head to tear it off your back. In front of you, Rumi’s being overtaken by demons at all sides. She yells as a blue skinned demon cuts her side. The head of the one on top of you goes slack, its whole body vanishing after a sharp glowing blade lodges in its skull. Two more whizz through the air past you, striking a few surrounding Rumi.

A polearm flies through the air, killing 5 or so charging demons. “Need some help?” Mira swoops in, Zoey trailing behind with more shin-kals at the ready.

“Go! We got this, get Y/N to safety.”

Rumi stumbles up, grips your arm, and the two of you run away in the opposite direction. You weave through the streets without looking back. When the roads start to look familiar, you stagger to a stop for a quick breather. Fresh air fills your heaving lungs. You’re used to running around for errands, sure, but running for your life really takes a toll on you. Thank god for the adrenaline rush.

“That was close.” You breathe out. Rumi nods, her breath equally as ragged. “I’m just glad you’re safe.”

It's the last thing she says before she crumbles to the side, bracing herself against the wall of the nearest building. She clutches at her side.

“Rumi!”

You rush to her aid. Warm blood seeps through Rumi’s fingers as she attempts to put pressure against her wound. Blood pools on the pavement below. “You’re hurt.” A demon must have slashed her side during the attack. You look around. The roads are empty, but your apartment is just a few streets away.

“My apartment is close by. I have a first aid kit we can use, can you walk?” Rumi nods. “I’ve had worse, let’s go.”

It takes longer to get Rumi back to your apartment because of her almost inability to walk. You placed an arm around her back with one of hers over your shoulder. While you were trying to determine what you could use to treat her wounds, all Rumi could think of were ways to avoid your help. She started racking her brain for excuses, but nothing came to mind. Rumi can’t let you see her with her torso bare. Because the second she lifts her shirt, you’ll know the truth, and she’ll be done for.

The walk to your place is manageable for Rumi. The bleeding has since stopped after you tied the sleeve of your hoodie around the gash, but it still makes walking up stairs difficult. At this hour, your grandpa must be asleep, and you hope the sounds of you hauling in a hurt Rumi doesn’t stir him awake.

You set Rumi into the tub and ransack your medkit for gauze, bandages, and rubbing alcohol, all the while she’s trying to argue that she can take care of it herself.

“Y/N, please, I need to do it myself.”

“No! You’re still bleeding. You looked like you’re gonna pass out. Let me do this for you.”

“Y/N, you don’t understand…” Rumi shakes her head, attempting to stand.

“Sit down, Rumi. I’m perfectly capable of—“

“Y/N!” Rumi’s voice reverberates throughout the room, making the Honmoon ripple in a magenta color. Her voice became deep and distorted with the cry. Your whole body froze as bright glowing patterns began to glow on her skin through her clothes.

Her eyes practically bulged out of her head. “No. No, no, no, no, no.” Rumi tried to back away from you. Her back hits the bathroom door. It’s too late, you already saw it—the monster she truly is.

Whatever it is your saying doesn’t seem to register in her mind. She’s just so dizzy. Maybe it’s the blood loss, maybe it’s the shock. Rumi doesn’t even notice the tears flowing down her cheeks until you have her cradled against your chest. Your calming voice brings her back, whispering reassurances into her ear. Your hands rub along her back to soothe her.

“You can trust me.” You say it with enough sincerity that in this moment she feels like she could believe you. Rumi searches your eyes for any hint of dishonesty but she finds none. Slowly, you sit her back down on the edge of the tub, dropping to your knees before her. “I know you’re scared, but you’re very hurt right now. I need you to lift your shirt for me, please?”

Rumi shucks the hoodie around her waist. Despite the coppery scent filling the room, she’s hesitant to lift her shirt. You place a comforting hand on her knee, reminding her that you’re still here for her. Rumi had expected you to be long gone by now. With your help she’s able to take off her turtleneck.

This is the most exposed she’s ever been to another person. The cold air brushing against her skin makes her shiver. Her bra does little to warm her up. When she looks down at you, your eyes are trained on a long gash that spans along her waist.

You grimace. It’s not deep enough for stitching, but it’ll take some time to heal. Carefully, you clean it up, then wrap a bandage around her waist just right. “How’s that feel?”

“Better, I’ll heal quickly.” You stand and give her a once over. “I think it’s best you stay with me tonight. As—as a safety precaution. You shouldn’t move around too much right now.” Rumi nods, still bearing that same distant, solemn look.

“I’m going to bring you some clothes. I’m not sure how well they’ll fit, but it’s better than those blood soaked ones you have now.” You return to your bedroom and come back with a fresh pair of pajamas. “I’ll give you some privacy. I’m…I’m right outside the door if you need me.” You close the door behind you and breathe out a sigh.

You force yourself to sit on your bed as you try to make sense of everything. Rumi, the one of the world's most popular K-pop idols, your friend, is a demon. Your mind swirls as you try to come to terms with it. But as you start to process, all the pieces start coming together.

“So, everything with patterns is a demon?”

You remember asking that question the day they first brought you back to their penthouse. Rumi was quiet during that part of the discussion, and now you know why.

“He knows something about me that the others don’t, and it’s something that can jeopardize everything.”

You come to the conclusion that Mira and Zoey must not know. But at the same time, Jinu knows, somehow, making you the only other person with this information. You can’t imagine how difficult it must be to keep this away from the ones closest to you.

The constant layers, her bathhouse invitation refusals, it’s all starting to make sense. You aren’t mad per say. In all honesty, you don’t know how to feel. Nothing could have prepared you for this. The longer you think about it, the more you start to sympathize with her. You don’t want to jump right into questions when she comes back out. Rumi’s terrified, her biggest secret has been exposed to you unwillingly. The least I can do is be there for her.

When she came out of the bathroom you couldn’t help but do a double take.

Rumi’s hair was down. Fully. Unbraided and falling all the way down to her calves. She had some defined curls, probably because it was braided for so long. The shorts you gave her stopped a little bit short, somewhere around her mid thigh. And the shirt you gave her ended up looking like it was cropped, bearing her stomach and patterns. In retrospect, you probably should’ve given her something longer. You felt a little guilty for carelessly giving her clothes she wouldn’t feel comfortable in, but it was summer, and you didn’t have a ton of winter-wear pajamas on hand.

“You’re staring.”

Her observation snaps you out of your trance. “Sorry, I just…I’ve never seen you with your hair down. You’re beautiful.” She can’t help but feel a little bit surprised that it’s not her patterns you're staring at. She relaxes for a moment, bracing herself for the explanation she intends to give to you.

She sits next to you on the edge of the bed. You stay quiet, ready to listen when she wants to speak.

Rumi looks down at her patterned hands. “My father was a demon. My mother, a hunter. That makes me half and half.”

She outstretches her arm to you, showing how her patterns, once glowing and now are a light purple similar to her hair, crawl up her arms all the way to her neck. “I’ve lived my whole life believing I was a mistake. That I needed to hide who I truly am, until I fix it.” Curiously, you reach out, training the purple lines with the pad of your thumb. The touch sends a shiver down her spine. Her hand forms a fist in a non-threatening way.

Rumi tugs at the edge of her sleeve. “Once the Honmoon is sealed, these patterns will be gone, and I will finally be free.”

Slowly you take off your hoodie, and pull back the neckline of your tank top. Underneath are a series of scars, some fainter than others, but all the result of a similar injury. “I know what it’s like to be ashamed of the scars on your body.”

You grimaced at the memories.

From the first time you picked up a microphone, your parents knew you were destined to make it big.

Both your parents were upper class, your father a wealthy entertainment lawyer and your mother an outgoing socialite. Both had the connections that would make you set for life.

They didn’t allow you to be a kid. Instead of playing with dolls, you learned how to dance. Friendly hangouts were soon replaced with vocal lessons and instrument practice. Yet they still expected you to maintain perfect marks.

“Mommy, why can’t I play with the other kids?”

“Because you’re different. You’re special. If you want to succeed in life, you must do as I say, and all of it will pay off.”

Then one night, after years and years of molding you into the perfect trainee, they struck gold. The three of you attended a dinner hosted by an agent of a big label company, a client of your father’s. The dinner was meant to just get a feel for the potential talent within you. Maybe it was the wine, but something in the agent agreed to sign a 3 year contract to debut you as a solo artist.

It was the moment you’ve waited for your entire life. Your parents were ecstatic, and as the drinks flowed freely, there was no chance you were letting them drive you back home. Your host bid the three of you farewell with a promise to send the official documents within the next few days. As you slid the key into the ignition, outside it started to pour.

“I won’t lie, reader, I was scared you were going to lose this opportunity for us. You’re lucky to have us as parents, letting us do all the talking for you so you don’t mess it up.

“You’re going to make our family proud, Y/N. As long as we’re involved, you’ll have nothing but to worry about.”

“This is just the beginning, Y/N.”

Every word of theirs angered you to the core. You’ve put up with their pressure your entire life. Finally, 18 years worth of pent up anger began to pour out of you. Something in you snapped, and you began arguing and yelling at them as you drove. You didn’t even realize how much force you were putting on the gas pedal on the slippery roads.

You didn’t hear your fathers warning about the rain and your speed until the car came to a skid. You tried to break, but it was no use. The car tumbled down the side of the road into a large mass of trees and brush. The trunk of a tall, sturdy tree totaled the front of the car. Your head knocked against the airbag, knocking you out.

You groaned as you came to, though something was preventing you from moving. Branches dug into your chest and neck, deep enough to produce thick amounts of blood. The sheer shock of it helped you to not feel the pain just yet.

You lifted your head to see flashing lights from above on the road. It took some time for paramedics to pull you out without injuring you further. A few “Miss? Miss, are you okay?”s sounded from above you, but you didn’t have it in you to talk. You squinted from the flashlight being shined in your eyes. Everything felt fast; the door opening, being lifted into a stretcher, being covered in anesthesia. The paramedic above you starts listing off your injuries to the one across from you.

“The patient is in shock with multiple puncture wounds. Get her under an oxygen mask, she may have a fractured lung. We may need to intubate if she crashes. You, go get body bags for the others.” It was the last thing you heard before the anesthesia made your thoughts melt away.

You look up at Rumi. “They died on the scene. They were…harsh, they were still my parents.” She grasps your hand. You continue on.

“The agent said he’d get back to me, but every time I called, it went straight to voicemail. Every time I visited the agency, he apparently was never in his office. I never heard from him again. So all that work, all that sacrifice, it was for nothing.

“I didn’t know my grandpa very well before. His relationship with my dad was strained, my father was ashamed of him for being poor. And yet, he sold his house in the country for a small apartment in the city to care for me. He didn’t have much, but he was always there for me, making sure I was never alone.

“When I got better, I applied to university abroad. I inherited a lot from my parents. I used it to pay off some debts. My grandpa’s, my education, even after selling the house I had more than I knew what to do with. The amount overwhelmed me,” you chuckle. "so I ended up giving a good chunk of it away.

You pull down the edge of your tank top. “These scars are a constant reminder of my mistakes, of my pain.” You interlock your fingers with hers. “I meant what I said. You’re still the Rumi I know, demon or not. You’re beautiful, patterns and all. And for what it’s worth… I don’t think you’re a mistake.” A stunned silence fills the room.

Rumi pulls you into a hug. Her arms wrap around your neck, yours circle around her waist. She buries her head into your neck. The two of you stay like that for longer than you should. When you pull back, you’re suddenly more aware of the proximity between the two of you.

“You should sleep,” You tell her. She nods wordlessly before laying down. You flip onto your side, facing away from her. You internally breathe out a sigh of relief. Other than Bobby who knows snippets, Rumi’s the only other person you’ve told about your past.

You fall asleep with an invisible weight lifted off your shoulders.

—

The flash of a light makes Rumi’s eyes crinkle in her sleep, stirring her away.

The first thing she noticed however were the pair of arms wrapped loosely around her waist. Somehow during the night, she scooted backwards, and you turned to face her, leaving the two of you spooning while the both of you slept.

A dark, glowing cloud of mist lingers outside the window, right before dissipating into thin air.

Shit.

Rumi stifles a gasp and moves quietly out of bed, having to maneuver your arms in such a way to not disturb her sleep. She stands before you, watching your arms encircle around the pillow Rumi was laying on instead. Cute she thinks. Another bright flash outside lights up the room.

Your window opens up to the fire escape. Rumi crawls through and leans over the stair railing, seeing a growing wall of magenta fog form at the end of the alley.

A man walks through the mist.

He has a toned build. Taller than Rumi, bearing light purple hair and yellow eyes. A demon, of course, but one with quite possibly the brightest glowing marks Rumi’s ever seen. Rumi summons her saingeom. Whoever this was, she wished she had Mira and Zoey by her side.

“There is no need for that,” The man’s casual tone breaks the silence. “I may be weaker in this form, but it’ll take more than just a blade to kill me.”

“Who are you?” Rumi raises her saingeom. “Isn’t it obvious? And here I thought I wouldn’t need an introduction.” The man clicks his tongue, tilting his head down as he studies her. “I had to see it for myself.”

“See what?”

He shakes his head. “Your resemblance to her is uncanny. You even fashion your hair the same way. I only see mere glimpses through my people, never the full picture.”

She raises her weapon closer to eye level. The man doesn’t so much as flinch. He seems more unimpressed than anything. “This is my last time asking. Who are you?”

“I am Gwi-Ma, you’re biological father.”

Forces herself to not drop her weapon.

“You’re lying!”

“I am not.”

“You are not my father.”

“By many definitions, you are right. We have no emotional entanglements. But the fact remains,” He shrugs off his jacket, leaving him in just a black tank top. His crossed arms bear glowing purple patterns identical to Rumi’s.

She narrows her eyes. “Why are you here?”

“I want to offer you an opportunity.”

“I’m not taking anything from you.”

“My deals are not offered lightly. What I can give to you is something you can’t find anywhere else.”

“And what is that?”

“Knowledge. Power. Answers.” The two circle around each other. “A single drop of my blood holds more strength than the average demon. I’d hate to see such unimaginable power go to waste. With my help, you can foster it, grow it. It lays dormant, but I can teach you how to tame it, instead of letting it rot. I can see it in you already. It's waiting for you to set it free.”

He unsheathes his own blade and charges. But as demon king, he’s too quick. Rumi closes her eyes, and when she opens them, she finds herself at the other end of the alley. Woah. Gwi-ma chuckles darkly, sheathing his weapon into thin air. “Was that your first time? And without instruction no less”

Gwi-Ma thrives on the shock in Rumi’s eyes. “It’s no secret demons can teleport. However, no human-crafted book can tell you how, it’s instinct. Your instincts. And I can help you control it, if you wish.”

Rumi narrows her eyes. Someone like Gwi-Ma would never make such a plain and simple deal without a cost. It’s how he condemned Jinu after all. “I will never betray my family.”

“I see, not that you haven’t done so already. That woman’s influence weakens your potential.”

Ryu Miyeong, Rumi’s mother. “What can you tell me about her?”

If Rumi had blinked, she would’ve missed the way a faint smile graces Gwi-Ma’s lips before vanishing. “Your mother was resilient, powerful, manipulatable…” he trails off. “She was of great use to me and was the key to breaking the Honmoon.” His eyes harden. “She’d still be breathing if it weren’t for that other woman.”

That other woman? “Who?”

“Celine” he sneers.

Rumi’s eyes widened. Celine?

“Oh? Did you not know? Maybe your predecessor isn’t as honest as you thought. She is the reason your mother is dead”

“Why, how…?” “I have no obligation to tell–” “Yes you do!” Rumi yells in her echoed demonic voice. Bright purple lines ripple through the Honmoon around her. Gwi-Ma raises a brow, but doesn't comment on it. “Careful, you might wake up your human.”

Rumi glances up at your window, almost as if she were waiting for your bedroom light to turn on. Thankfully, it doesn’t.

“A word of advice?” He shrugs back on his jacket, “If you truly care for her, you wouldn’t let her go near the awards show. It’d be a shame if she were caught in the crossfire. I’m sure her soul would taste–”

Rumi teleports in front of him, her saingeom pressed right up against his neck. He raises a brow, watching her with something akin to recognition. There was a time long ago where he would’ve acted the same, but that time has long since passed.

“This is a war that’s waged on for decades. You won’t be the one to stop it.” His body turns to a fiery mist, then he’s gone. Rumi yells out into the empty alleyway.

-

Rumi climbs back up the fire escape and crawls through the window with ease. You’re still sleeping in the same position she left you in as she quietly slips into bed.

Instinctively, you gravitate towards her. Rumi places a hesitant arm around your shoulders as she leans back against the headboard. Zoey’s always had this sort of habit, and Mira’s gladly joined in once or twice, but she’s not used to being as physically affectionate with you. If she didn’t just come back from such a life changing revelation, she’d feel more flattered. Rumi hates how you were dragged into this, and she hates how you’re so much more at risk than you were before, all because of her.

She squeezes you tighter. Despite the comfort your presence brings to her, she can’t help but shed a few tears. All this time she thought she could separate herself from her other half. Celine had always told her it was possible. Once the Honmoon is sealed, her patterns would be gone. Now she’s questioning if it's even possible.

And Celine…Celine. The same Celine who had cared for her all these years lied to her about her family history. Rumi knows in her heart Celine has always wanted the best for her. But was keeping this secret from her the best? If she demanded the truth, would Celine give it to her?

Rumi couldn’t sleep. Her half-demon abilities have always healed injuries faster than regular humans, but that wasn’t what kept her mind running. Rumi formulated a plan as you slept. With a few quick Google searches and three train tickets bought, Rumi intends on finding out the whole truth. By the end of her planning, she watched the sun rise through the same window she had crawled through earlier. Her side was feeling much better now. Maybe napping on the train will speed up the process? She slides on the clothes you set out for her the night before and re-braids her hair. Rumi picks up a pen and sticky note from your desk to write out a short note for you to find on your nightstand when you eventually wake up. She gives you one last look before quietly shutting the door.

“Now I may be old and senile, but I’m not stupid.”

Rumi blinks. When she turns, she sees your grandpa sitting at the dining table with coffee in his hands. “Y/N doesn't bring many people home,” he clarifies, “So for her to bring you here means she at least trusts you. Now, I can tell the second you walked through that door there was something between the two of you, and I won’t pry into any details, but I’ve lived long enough to observe people very keenly.”

He places another cup of coffee on the table. Rumi accepts it gratefully.

“Whatever reason you have for leaving blood on my floors, it better be worth the trouble.” Rumi looks down at her cup. “I’ll do my best to protect her, Mr L/N.”

He seems satisfied by that, dropping the conversation. Rumi gulps down the last of her coffee. “I have another box for you on the counter,” he points a shaky finger to a box of fruit, “Citrus is good for your health. Take that before you go.”

Rumi bids him a thank you and sets off with another box. Instead of going back to the dorm, she sets out to the nearest train station, hoping to find the one person who can give her any real answers.

Taglist: @blazemaster4014 , @ang3lz-lov3 , @rainbowmess823 , @honney-bonny , @tell-me-whyyyy-am-i-here , @thestarseternal , @tinysoap , @pr0bablyr0se @coraldiplomatvoidhoagie-blog , @solardvst , @mvskedxrtist , @rileigh519 , @buzzinkhaleesi , @drpepperobsessed , @mysticsportsflapfriend , @left-and-right-up-and-down , @loftilydirevoid , @severelyuniquereview @wickedpyro, @fruityg0rl , @rinapomu , @kisekiworker , @nev-valkyriesdottir , @notheroverthinker , @velvetinkbym , @tyresedidjsfart , @beaflyy , @rujinuuuu , @stuxxnioe , @dyziot

The weather was unexpected.

Your once sunny day turned into dreary skies and heavy rain as soon as you stepped outside the office. A day your choice of clothing had not at all predicted, which led you to getting rained on as you raced to the recording studio.

All three Huntr/x members sit in a circle, running through potential lyrics and chords. Rumi’s guitar strumming turns into a distorted melody while Mira & Zoey’s singing shifts into frustrated groaning.

“This song sucks!”

“We only have to write the best diss track ever to crush the Idol Awards, or there’ll be a demon apocalypse.” Mira flops back onto a beanbag. “No pressure at all.” She tosses a dart straight at a poster of Jinu’s face taped to a dartboard. Around it hangs more printouts of the Saja Boys members.

“Yeah! We gotta get up close and insult their stupid faces. Their stupid, smug demon faces.” Zoey flops onto the same beanbag Mira’s laying on, resting her head on Mira’s shoulder and slinging an arm around her waist. A hurried knock sounds from the production room door.

Rumi’s met with the sight of you dripping from head to toe. In your hands was a small plastic bag you had sheltered from the rain. She gasps and brings you inside, immediately reaching for a blanket to dry you off. You’re still shivering as she wraps it around you. You only wore a simple shirt and slacks. Your body needs warmth.

Rumi takes off her hoodie without thinking.

She freezes. Then remembers she picked out a turtleneck because of the weather. Chances are her patterns will stay well hidden. At the moment, it’s you she’s more concerned about as she helps you into her hoodie.

You release a sigh. “Hey guys.”

“Hi Y/N.” They reply at the same time, a little quieter version of how they greet Bobby.

“Mind telling us why you’re soaking wet?”

“I didn’t check the weather—" you sneeze, “the weather. It was sunny when I left, how was I supposed to know it was gonna rain?” You grumble.

Rumi leads you to sit on an unoccupied beanbag. Mira and Zoey get up from theirs and place it next to the one you’re on, encouraging Rumi to sit. Her eyes widened a little at that, but regardless, she took her place next to you, letting you lean against her with her arm around your shoulders. Surprisingly, Rumi’s skin is incredibly warm. Must be from all the layers she always has on you think, not noticing how red and quiet she’s become.

You hold up your hand that holds the plastic bag. “Anyways, I brought you guys mochi donuts.”

Bobby had already told you how they were absolutely buzzing to get to the studio earlier that day. Knowing how much of a workaholic Rumi is, or any of them for that matter, chances are this is probably the most food they’ve been in proximity to since lunch. You grin as each of their eyes light up, all eager to grab one.

“So, how’s the song going?” The three of them groan.

“That bad, huh?”

Mira glares at the posters, hitting one dart after another as Zoey catches you up to speed. Once Mira is out of darts, she began tearing them off the studio wall. “I’m taking these down! Just like how we’re gonna take down these boys!”

A lightbulb goes off in Rumi’s head. “Take down? Takedown! That’s the song! It's a takedown!

Zoey, whose brain is always running a mile a minute, comes up with the beginning lyrics. “So sweet, so easy on the eyes but hideous on the inside!”

Mira nods, “Nice.”

“You like it?”

Mira continues, “Whole life spreading lies, but you can’t hide.”

“Baby, nice try.”

Mira crossed her arms, impressed by Rumi’s addition. “Woah. That’s sounding good.”

“I’m about to switch up these vi–” her voice strains from a rough cough. “Sorry guys.”

“No, no, take it easy.” “Yeah, rest that voice for Idol Awards.

The rest of the day was spent working out the beginnings of the song. Their motivation lasted into the evening until their stomachs took first priority. “I’m beat.” Mira stands, cracking her stiff neck “You comin, Zoey? Rumi?” Zoey nods tiredly. She stretches her body and goes to Mira’s side. “Rumi?”

Rumi doesn’t notice them standing up. Instead, she’s laser focused on the computer in her lap, her headphones plugged as she replays her vocals over and over again, listening for flaws.

Mira swats the back of her head. “Ow,” Rumi exclaims. She looks up at Mira, who was hiding a small smirk as she takes off the headphones. “I asked: Are you coming with us?”

Rumi looks between them and the computer. She chews her lip, “I think I wanna stay. My vocals aren’t right yet. I want to work on them.”

“Rumi,” Zoey sighs, “The song will still be here tomorrow. You need the rest. We don’t want you staying here for the rest of the night.”

“I can stay,” you shrug, looking between the group members. “I don’t have any plans. And I’ll make sure she quits before 12 so she doesn't overwork herself.” Rumi smiles and looks at the group with pleading eyes. They both relent and pick up their things before leaving.

Neither of you notice how fast the hours tick by. Their recording studio became the floor plan for a slumber party. Furniture was pushed around to add to the cozy atmosphere. Throughout the night, you helped Rumi mix beats, experiment with vocals, and even test out new lyrics. Rumi would always ask for your thoughts whenever she made any changes.

The mochi donuts you had ordered were dwindling down to the very last pieces. Rumi saved the last in the box for you.

“So, why’d you really stay?” Rumi finally asks.

“I always have trouble sleeping.” You confess. “Being here with you is ten times better than staring at a wall for hours.” You take a sip of water from your blue tumbler. “It’s actually why I keep giving you tea. I wanted to learn the best types to induce sleep, then ending up doing a whole deep dive on the different types.”

At the mention of sleep, Rumi can feel the exhaustion seeping through her body. She tries to fight it, but starts to nod off on the couch next to you. “Hey, don’t fall asleep on me,” you poke her side. You glance up at the clock on the wall. 11:49, you may have to call it quits before 12. Rumi nods tiredly, shaking the sleepiness out of her. Her eyes strain against the computer screen as she wills herself to be okay with the unfinished product. Just as she’s about to click save, the lights go out. Every machine in the room goes dark. In her head, Rumi’s screaming a thousand curses that would surely send Celine into an early grave.

Thunder cracks outside. You both have the same idea to get up, but the lack of light screws with your coordination. You can feel Rumi brush past you to try the light switch. Nothing. She opens the studio door that leads out into the hallway and finds it's completely pitch black. She shuts it close. “Powers completely out,” she deems.

You had forgotten where you placed your phone. But you needed its flashlight in order to see. You stumble around the room at the same time as Rumi does.

The two of you collide. Rumi loses her footing, sending the two of you to topple onto one of the couches. Your head knocks against something solid. Found it.

Despite there being no light, you can feel how close she is to you. Her breath fans against your cheek. She has one arm around your back—an attempt at breaking your fall—and one above your head to steady herself. Rumi’s never been more grateful for a power outage in her whole life.

Thank god she can’t see my face

You immediately interrupt her silent thank you by accidentally shining a blinding flash right in her eyes. She yelps, moving backwards and holding her hand against the light. “Sorry!” You apologize quickly, shining it in a different direction.

“Hm, the light’s not strong enough,” you muse. It’s not?? Rumi exclaims in her head. “We need something brighter.”

You attempt to mess with your flashlight settings. Though within an instant, the room suddenly lights up in a purple tinted glow. You look over and see Rumi standing awkwardly with her saingeom brandished. She looks between you and the blade, smiling sheepishly. “Light.” She clarifies.

You huff in amusement. Though this is a good opportunity to get a closer look at her weapon of choice. “Can I see it?” You can’t help but ask.

Rumi steps closer. Her expression becomes serious. She takes your hand and raises it, placing the hilt gently in your grasp.

Celine would have a heart attack.

You inspect it closer, waving it around carefully. “It’s very light,” you note. You look good welding her saingeom. The light makes your skin glow. Rumi briefly considers the idea of training you. An assistant manager who knew how to help them in more ways than one? The idea would be beneficial for the group. It’s definitely not the idea of sharing her technique, her craft, her time that makes her dwell on it longer than she needs to.

The lights flicker back on. You hand her back the saingeom, and she throws it off into thin air. The alarm on your phone blares at 12 o’clock exactly.

Rumi walks you out of the building. “Well, I guess this is goodbye.” You smile.

Rumi glances around. “It’s too dangerous for you to go out alone. Your place is further away. It’s late, it’s dark, and it’s still raining. You can stay with me?” She offers. Her building isn’t very far from the recording studio.

Rather than calling her driver, you can’t help but ask if you two can take the metro instead, mumbling something about unsafe drivers and slippery streets. Rumi holds out an umbrella for the both of you, giving you no choice but to squeeze close to her for the short walk to the station. Not that you minded, far from it. Her presence near you is becoming a comfort.

Although there were enough guest rooms to lose track of in the lower floors, Rumi didn’t want you to go down alone. For your safety, obviously for your safety, she leads you to the penthouse floor where the rest of Huntr/x resides.

She leads you to the couch, fetching pillows and blankets from her own room to bring to you. You accept them gratefully as she sits next to you.

“Thank you for staying with me today.” Rumi looks down at her hands. When she doesn’t hear a response, she looks over.

You were already asleep. She tries to move you down, but your head falls against her shoulder instead. Rumi blushes and remains still, not wanting to disturb you. It was so late, and Rumi was just so tired. After giving you a small once over to make sure you’re comfortable, she wants to completely pass out on the couch with you.

But her thoughts keep her awake. It’s no secret Rumi was beyond touch starved. At some point, you had curled up closer to Rumi’s body, and her arm had slipped around your waist. The sight was endearing. And with you asleep, she, for once, didn't mind the stubborn blush that always seemed to appear when you were around. Though the moment is short-lived.

No, she thinks, I can’t be having thoughts like this.

It’s not because you’re a girl. She’s known that about herself at least since her early 20s, when she started meeting other female idols in person. Because just look at them. She hasn’t told Mira or Zoey or even Bobby. Even though she knows they all would accept her, she can’t say the same for the rest of the world.

The other half of her is why. She's still a demon. A mistake, so to speak. You’d never want her. You can never be with her. From a young age, per Celine’s request, Rumi has stayed away from any potential romantic entanglements. Rumi never had a problem with it. She knows deep down no one could ever accept her until she got rid of her patterns. Otherwise she wouldn’t have sworn off love for so long.

She can’t experience love until they’re gone. Even if you know about Hunters and their sacred duties. Even after she spent an entire night realizing all the praise she gave to your appearance still applies after she found out you’re human. If anything, this should give her more motivation to turn the Honmoon gold, but really, she just feels terrible for lying to you. The exact same shame that plagues her when it comes to both Mira and Zoey is beginning to expand to you too.

In the end, Rumi reluctantly falls asleep; and underneath her top, her patterns only grow brighter.

—

It was about 2am when Zoey awoke craving something.

She yawns loudly and stretches in bed before making her way to the kitchen. The pouring rain outside her window sent her right to sleep after a small dinner with Mira. But now, she realizes, it wasn’t enough. She flicks on the light and nearly screams when she sees two dark figures on the couch. But once she sees who it is, Zoey rushes back down the hall and quietly knocks on Mira’s door until she answers.

“Zoey, why the hell—" Zoey drags Mira into the living room by her wrist and points at the two of you. She holds back a squeal, snapping a photo with the flash accidentally on. “Zoey, you’re gonna wake them up.” Mira chides, pushing her glasses back onto her face. Rumi shifts a little in her sleep. “See.”

Not wanting to disturb either of you two, they take their conversation elsewhere, talking in hushed voices. “But they look so cute together!”. Zoey walks back to the kitchen with Mira in tow. “This is proof that I’m winning the bet. I’m getting that $20 from you tomorrow. They’re gonna confess soon, I just know it.” Zoey attempts to reach for a small bag of chips at the top of the fridge.

Mira raises a brow as she leans against the counter. “You get your 20 when they actually admit to it. I know Rumi. She’s going to hold it in for a while. I don’t even think she realizes she even has feelings for her.” Mira reaches for the bag of chips above Zoey’s head with little effort, handing them to her. Zoey looks down at the bag, “Do you think we were like that?”

“Oh yeah.”

Mira tilts Zoey’s chin up with her thumb & index finger and kisses her sweetly. Her glasses fog up just a little. That same hand glides up to cup Zoey’s cheek. “I’m just glad we’re past that phase.”

“We need to tell Rumi eventually.” Zoey tries to say through Mira’s kisses. “Soon, she’s got a lot on her plate.” The two stumble back towards the bedrooms, the bag of chips forgotten on the counter.

—

The following week was spent solely on the song. And killing more demons. A task which never seemed to end as new weak spots opened around the city. In some ways, it proved to be fruitful: saving lives, discovering the beat of the song, and forming new lyrics.

Though as the Saja Boys climbed further into the limelight, their fans fell deeper and deeper under their spell; each passing day became a reminder that no matter how hard the three of them tried, they can’t save everyone. The group wasn’t oblivious to the reports. New missing persons cases were talked of in the media every day, each overshadowed by a new Saja Boys update. Billboards featuring Huntr/x were soon replaced. Weekly awards shows they used to win easily were handed over to them. With every fan they save, they’re met with those demonic faces plastered on every surface in sight.

Rumi became more conflicted. Every new addition to the song began to rub Rumi the wrong way. Her short conversation with Jinu gave her more insight than Celine has ever given her. She hated going behind Mira and Zoey’s backs to meet him, but she still had so many questions. If Jinu was once human, and was condemned because of his mistake, is it the same for the others she’s killed?

Break you into pieces in a world of pain ‘cause you’re all the same.

Her attempts to find out more only did so much.

“Are you a prisoner, too? Is Gwi-Ma making you do this?” She was saved by a concerned Mira before she could get an answer. Regardless of her questions, there was more at stake. If they wanted to win the Idol Awards, she would need his help. Rumi scribbled out a note for Derpy to send. The cover read: Save the date.

Hopefully, this will work.

—

Rumi woke up way too early for her own good the next morning. But she was on a mission. She has her hands in her pockets as she walks, mentally preparing her pitch on the way to her destination. She watches Jinu leaning back casually against the stone walls. An idea comes to mind.

Jinu scoffs. “She wants to meet and she’s late?” he flips the card in his hand. With a smirk, Rumi jumps onto the stone wall next to him without him noticing. When he sees her, he yelps and jumps back, clutching his heart. “You made me come all the way here just to jump scare me?”

“Follow me.”

“Well, I’m glad you’re finally ready to talk. Although, I still don't understand why you called this a date.”

“Date? No! Ew! What are you talking about?” He holds up the card dumbly. Save the date. “That doesn’t mean–you’re so old.” Rumi groans. “This is strictly a business meeting.”

“I figured as much, since you’re seeing that other girl.”

“What? No, we’re not–She wouldn’t be into… that’s not the point!”

“Well, are you?” “Am I what?” “Into her?” Rumi knows he’s probably fishing for information to use against her. Regardless, he’s the only person who can understand the full extent of her dilemma.

“I shouldn’t feel that way. I can’t. Not when I’m like this...even if she does know.”

“She knows?” His eyes narrow at her well hidden patterns.

“Yeah I…well, it wasn’t intentional. We saved her.” I saved her. The image of your smiling face flashes in her mind. Rumi looks up at Jinu, “But she can never know the truth about me.” Jinu is quiet.

“I don’t think you know what a business meeting really entails.” he teases.

With a smile, Rumi shakes her head, walking up the stairs of the scenic path. “What if I told you there’s another way to get your freedom?”

Jinu perks up. “Go on?”

“Help us win the idol awards. Because when we win, the Honmoon will be sealed. And that will guarantee your freedom. Gwi-Ma will be permanently cut off, and all the demons will be gone from this world. I will finally be free of these patterns. No more hiding. No more secrets.” She can’t win without his help. Rumi turns to him, “You can be on this side when the Honmoon is sealed. Away from the demon world, away from Gwi-ma. You can be free of those voices forever.”

“What makes you think the Honmoon can save a guy like me?”

“A guy who tried to help his family? You made a mistake, Jinu.”

He scoffs, “It’s not that simple.”

“But I am a mistake. Have been since the moment I was born. So, I have to believe. Because if there’s no hope for you, what hope is there for me?”

As they walk, they come across a vendor setting up shop. On a table is an assortment of different types of jewelry. She startles them when she calls them over. “A bracelet? For the beautiful girlfriend?”

“No! We’re not--!

“Oh, no, she has one already–” Rumi elbows him in the stomach, making him double over in pain. “I can see why you’re single.” Jinu grits out.

The woman only brightens and turns to Rumi. “Then a bracelet for the special woman in your life?” The woman gestures to a horizontal display stand filled to the brim with bracelets lined next to each other.

Rumi has no idea what she should get for you, but she wants it to be meaningful. You remind her of the color blue. She picks out a woven aqua blue one for you. Then, as she continues to skim, she picks out a hot pink one for Mira and a similar navy blue one for Zoey. Finally, she picks out a purple one for herself to match with everyone. Satisfied, she pays the vendor happily, who then turns to Jinu.

“And for you, young man? Anyone special in your life?”

Jinu stares down at the bracelets. He chooses 2 leather ones with small detailed engravings and pockets them after paying. Rumi doesn’t ask who they’re for. As they walk away from the vendor, he doesn’t say much until they’re out of earshot. He stops in his tracks.

“The demon realm isn’t a place for love. Up here, it’s everywhere,” he starts, “The idea is almost hopeless to believe in.

“That’s the funny thing about hope. Nobody else gets to decide how you feel it. That choice belongs to you.”

Jinu looks down at the two brackets. He gives Rumi a faint smile, then turns into mist in the blink of an eye.

—

Later that night, Derpy lays curled up on the floor next to Rumi as she goes over Takedown. Her voice has been steadily improving since the Golden release. Rumi follows through each lyric with her pen as she sings.

“When your patterns start to show it makes the hatred wanna grow out of my…” She sighs, crossing out the last few lines of the bridge.

“When your patterns start to show, I see a pain that lies below.” She starts to play with the bracelet in her hand. Not Rumi’s, but yours. She hasn’t seen you at all today, so she hasn’t yet gotten the chance to give it to you. Fiddling with it has become sort of a comfort for her. Sensing the sentiment, Derpy leans up onto its paws to inspect it. “Calm down. I’m not gonna see her yet.” Rumi scratches his nose.

A knock sounds at her door, followed by someone clearing their throat. “Rumi?” Mira calls out. Her eyes widened, Mira can’t see Derpy here. “Uh–You gotta get out of here. Come on.” she pushes his head away and scrambles to toss all the papers on her bed into a trash bin. Mira knocks once more. “Yeah! Uh, give me a minute.”

Rumi opens the door to see Mira standing with her arms crossed. “Uh…what are you doing?” She asks nonchalantly.

“Uh, nothing. Just uh…did you want to come in?” “I mean yeah, if you want me to come in, I can come in.” She looks around the room, seemingly not noticing Derpy’s paw clawing at the trashcan that fell on its side. Rumi stiffens. Panic floods through her as she tries to hide him.

Luckily, Mira’s facing away from her. “I heard you singing. You sound good.”

“Yeah, who would’ve thought? Those tonics actually work.” Rumi struggles in the background as Mira peers down the box from Dr. Han’s office. She counts out six silently. Meaning Rumi hasn’t taken any since the visit. She can’t help but wonder why Rumi is lying about that of all things. Or more specifically, what exactly is she trying to hide from Mira?

Mira turns back and picks up a sheet of their lyrics that fell on the bed, the bottom stanza crossed out. “So, why are you changing our lyrics?”

“Oh, I just…” Rumi sighs. “Do you really think this is the right song to beat Gwi-Ma? It’s so hateful.”

“Yeah, because we hate him, and we hate demons.”

“No, I know.”

“Okay, what is up with you? I could swear the other day you were talking to a demon.” Mira steps closer to Rumi, making her back up in return.

“I–“ Rumi fumbles for an excuse to explain her recent behavior.

“Look, I’m pretty good at reading people. Actually, I’m kinda an expert at it.” Rumi sits on the bed to hide Derpy’s tail as Mira speaks. “And I just can’t shake the feeling that you’re hiding something from me.”

“...Mira, I’m not keeping anything from you. I promise.” Mira sighs, internally scolding herself for coming on a bit too harsh. “Sorry, I sound nuts.” she sighs, sitting on the bed right next to Rumi. “I guess these demons are just getting to me. I can’t wait until every last one of them is destroyed and sent back to Gwi-Ma to suffer for eternity.” she chuckles to herself.

“Right, Rumi?”

“Yeah. Eternal suffering. Sounds fun…” Rumi’s tone is dry, almost…disappointed, which doesn’t go unnoticed. Mira stands, but before she can get very far Rumi catches her wrist, surprising her. “I got you something…” Rumi scoots back to her headboard and takes one of the bracelets off her nightstand.

“I got this for you, I got one for Zoey too,” she hands it to Mira, “So we can all match.” Mira clutches it in her hand like it’s something precious. She slides it on. It’s a perfect fit. Mira thanks Rumi before leaving the room.

Despite the gift, Mira can’t shake the feeling. Something is definitely wrong with Rumi, she just can’t figure out what.

Minutes later, Zoey barges in, playfully demanding hers. Rumi hands it over without a second thought. Derpy and Sussy already disappeared into the barrier of the Honmoon, so she wasn’t worried about Zoey seeing the giant blue tiger that was curled up on her bed.

Once Rumi’s left alone, she looks down at the lyrics on the page, a conflicted expression on her face. Rumi can’t help but feel that her relationship with the others is beginning to strain. It won’t be long until they find out what she is.

She just has to hold out until the Idol Awards.

Taglist: @blazemaster4014 , @ang3lz-lov3 , @rainbowmess823 , @honney-bonny , @tell-me-whyyyy-am-i-here , @thestarseternal , @tinysoap , @pr0bablyr0se @coraldiplomatvoidhoagie-blog , @solardvst , @mvskedxrtist , @rileigh519 , @buzzinkhaleesi , @drpepperobsessed , @mysticsportsflapfriend , @left-and-right-up-and-down , @loftilydirevoid , @severelyuniquereview @wickedpyro, @fruityg0rl , @rinapomu , @kisekiworker , @nev-valkyriesdottir , @notheroverthinker , @velvetinkbym , @tyresedidjsfart , @beaflyy , @rujinuuuu , @stuxxnioe , @dyziot