The Summer Marnie Chose Them
Featuring : Bebe Seojun, Renn and Dan <3
There existed, in those long and golden summers of their childhood, a particular stretch of days that seemed to belong to no one at all.
Not to their tutors, who were conveniently forgotten.
Not to their families, who believed them somewhere “on the grounds.”
And certainly not to time itself, which moved slower in those hours—as though reluctant to disturb them.
Renn arrived, as she always did, with very little announcement and even less ceremony.
One day the estate was quiet.
That was all Seojun was told.
He found her not in the drawing room, nor in any place a guest ought to be, but halfway up the stone balustrade in the back garden, balancing with the sort of reckless confidence that made every adult within a mile radius nervous.
“You’re going to fall,” he said.
“I’m not,” she replied, not looking at him.
Then, with great dignity—climbed down.
“…that doesn’t count,” she added.
And just like that, the summer began.
They wandered, as children do when no one thinks to stop them.
Beyond the trimmed hedges.
Past the gardens that were meant to be admired, not escaped.
Through little breaks in fences and along paths that were not paths at all, but rather suggestions made by habit.
Just the quiet agreement that wherever one went, the other would follow.
It was on one such day—warm, drowsy, and humming with cicadas—that they found her.
Renn was the first to notice.
She stopped mid-step, squinting toward a low wooden crate half-hidden beneath the shade of an old fence.
They stood there, staring at it as though it might confess.
Decidedly not crate-like.
She approached first, of course. She always did.
Careless in a way that wasn’t quite reckless—more like she simply did not expect the world to be unkind.
Seo followed a step behind, wary in the way he always was.
Beneath the crate sat a cat.
Not trembling. Not frightened.
It looked at them as though they were the problem.
“Well,” Renn said, crouching. “You’re rude.”
Seo exhaled. “It’s stuck.”
“It’s not stuck,” Renn replied. “Look at it. It’s choosing this.”
“…that’s not how being stuck works.”
Nevertheless, he nudged the crate aside.
Not difficult. Not even heavy.
The cat stepped out with all the ceremony of a queen entering her court.
He frowned. “That’s not—”
The cat walked directly between them, brushing against Renn’s ankle, then Seo’s.
“…it is,” Renn said, with quiet satisfaction.
They tried, for formality’s sake, to leave her behind.
They walked a little faster.
They turned down a different path.
“…you can’t come with us.”
Renn crossed her arms. “You’re being rejected.”
“I am not being rejected.”
And continued after them as though this had already been decided.
“…this is a terrible idea,” Seo muttered.
Renn smiled—bright, pleased, entirely unbothered.
“It’s an excellent idea.”
By the time the estate came back into view, neither of them had suggested turning around.
At the edge of the gardens, Seo stopped.
The cat leapt onto the stone path.
Renn leaned slightly closer to him, lowering her voice as though sharing a grave secret.
The sort that feels larger when you know something is about to become permanent.
“…we can’t just keep her,” he said, though with less certainty now.
Renn didn’t answer immediately.
She crouched again, meeting the cat at eye level.
“…you already decided, didn’t you?”
Renn nodded, as though that settled it.
Then she looked up at Seo.
“We’ll just not not keep her.”
“…that is the worst logic I’ve ever heard.”
“And yet,” she gestured lightly, “she’s still here.”
Soft. Defeated. Not entirely unhappy.
“And she needs a name,” she added immediately.
“…Marnie,” he said, the word slipping out before he could stop it.
“Marnie,” she repeated, as though testing it.
The cat—Marnie—rose, stretched, and brushed past them both again, utterly indifferent to the significance of the moment.
And that was how it happened.
Only a quiet, sunlit afternoon—
And the simple, undeniable fact that from that day forward, there were no longer two of them wandering those summer paths.
Which, in itself, was a tragedy of moderate proportions.
Not the sort that warranted owls in mourning black or portraits weeping into their frames—but still, a noticeable absence. Because whenever Renn came over for the summer, Daniel was usually there too, trailing along with that same dry commentary of his as the three of them tore through the Wayne estate grounds like they owned it. Woods, gardens, abandoned corners—every inch explored, every rule politely ignored.
This summer, Daniel had the audacity—the sheer betrayal—to go off to Paris with his family.
And so, left unsupervised (a mistake, truly), Renn and Seojun did what any sensible duo would do.
They accidentally adopted a cat.
Somewhere in Paris, Daniel is having a perfectly normal day.
He’s seated at a little café, sunlight warm against the table, a half-finished drink in front of him, his sisters chatting idly beside him. There’s a calm to it. A rare, peaceful sort of quiet.
There is already a letter tied to its leg, which feels… ominous.
He narrows his eyes, slowly unties it, and unfolds the paper.
Daniel did not trust letters that began politely.
Experience had taught him that politeness—especially from those two—was never genuine. It was a setup. A trap. A carefully constructed prelude to something deeply, personally irritating.
So when the owl arrived, and the envelope was neat—too neat—he already knew.
He took the letter anyway.
We miss you terribly, this summer, and we wish you were here.
Daniel stared at the page.
Hope you’re having a wonderful time with your sisters!
Now we were cutting to the chase here—
“You were not cutting to anything. You are building suspense. I do not like it.”
We errr, accidentally adopted a cat.
Complete, devastating silence.
As if the words might rearrange themselves into something less catastrophic.
And it’s not leaving us alone.
It’s been a whole day since we found it.
“A whole day—?” he choked. “You kept it for a day??”
We’ll be done for if Mrs. Wayne finds out.
Daniel let out a hollow laugh.
“Oh, you’re done for regardless.”
And immediately regretted it.
“So we’re blaming it on you.”
The absolute lack of shame.
He looked around, as if someone else might step in and explain this.
“Bye bye have a nice summer.”
(We will not be responding to any of your letters.)
Then very slowly lowered the page.
“…You don’t get to say that.”
There was a small doodle of a cat at the bottom.
Daniel folded the letter.
Then stood up so abruptly his chair scraped loudly against the floor.
“I am gone for ONE summer—” he began, pacing now, letter clenched in his hand—“ONE summer with my sisters, and you two manage to adopt a cat, KEEP IT FOR A DAY, and then—”
He pointed at the paper like it had personally offended him.
“And then—” he continued, voice rising—“you have the audacity to say you will not be responding to my letters??”
Then, with the most controlled fury imaginable—
First of all, I am NOT taking responsibility for your poor decisions—
“…They signed it with a heart.”
Second of all, if Mrs. Wayne asks, I will be telling the truth.
Third of all… what does it look like.
THIS DOES NOT MEAN I APPROVE.
The owl leaned forward slightly.
“…If she kills you,” he muttered, handing it over, “I will not be attending the funeral.”
“…Unless the cat is there.”
Daniel sat back in his chair.
Silence settling around him again.
“…A whole day,” he muttered.
“…Of course it followed them home.”
My babies look so cute omggg Renn darling with her adorable braids and Seojun looks so dapper in his suit i CANTTT i love these idiots 😭😭 also I love sassy Dan .
Fully aware Renn and seo look like siblings even tho theyre just family friends 😭😭😭
