Archive of Our Own

Chapter Text

Getting from Namsan Tower back to Huntr/x Tower was a blur. Between the lingering shock, the exhaustion setting in, the adrenaline wearing off, and the full weight of all the emotionally traumatic events they just went through in quick succession finally starting to creep up on them, it was safe to say all three girls were in a disassociated haze. They didn’t even bother changing, barely managing to remove boots, jackets, and pointier pieces of jewelry before collapsing in a heap on their couch.

It didn’t take long to fall asleep. And mercifully, thanks to their heavy exhaustion, their sleep was dreamless.

— — —

Mira awoke first. She was usually an early riser, consistently the first of their group to wake up naturally. Rumi usually beat her, but only because she would set multiple alarms to force herself awake. Mira was naturally a morning person while Rumi…was not. The thought crossed her mind and Mira smiled: Rumi would be considered a Night Owl if their schedules allowed for it, and now she had a better understanding of why.

Of the three, Mira had the easiest time getting up from the couch. She was stretched out along one branch of it, her back resting against what she initially thought was the arm of the couch until spacial reasoning caught up with her and she realized that wasn’t possible. Then her pillow snored. She shifted, turning slightly to discover Zoey laying face up and splayed out, arms and legs flopped dramatically over the couch. And under her, was Rumi.

Rumi was on her stomach, one arm tucked under her head while the other lay draped over the edge of the couch, fingers grazing the floor. Zoey’s back was lined up with hers, the younger girl using Rumi’s braid as a pillow. It looked…positively uncomfortable and yet… Mira didn’t have the heart to wake them.

She stretched, feeling her spine protest her sleeping choices with a few angry pops, then carefully pushed herself up. Her shoulder and back burned with stinging pain, and upon reaching for it she remembered one of the Saja Boys snagging her with his claws. She winced, not looking forward to disinfecting that.

It was dark - the clock on the microwave displaying 11:46 - and given that it had been morning when they collapsed on the couch…

So the only logical thing to do was make some tea. Something decaf, obviously. But Mira could feel her throat starting to get scratchy from all the singing and crying and screaming. She couldn’t imagine what the others were feeling. The pot brewed, then she poured herself a cup before returning to the couch.

She held the warm mug in her hands, breathing in the scented steam with a content sigh. The kitchen light was on, spilling soft yellow light across the back of the couch, but otherwise the room was illuminated by the cool blue tones of the city below. There was a quiet stillness in the air of the apartment, calm and peaceful. It almost felt strange - they had come so close to losing everything, had been through an intense amount of emotional and physical pain and devastation. And yet here was their couch, their living room, their space completely unaffected. As if none of those things actually happened. But beyond the window, Mira could see the faint sheen of the new Honmoon, reflecting a multitude of colours instead of just the usual blue and confirming that things had very much changed.

A soft groan caught her ear, along with movement in the corner of her eye. Speaking of colour…

Rumi sleepily opened the one eye Mira could see. The soft brown of her right eye was darker in the minimal light of the room, but there were sparkles of blue cast by the glow spilling in from the window.

“Good morning,” Mira said quietly, in a matter of fact tone despite it not, in fact, being morning.

Rumi’s eye flitted up, focusing on a strand of Zoey’s hair that had shifted loose from her bun.

“You’re stuck, aren’t you?” Mira observed with a grin.

Rumi met her gaze again, her eye softening. A pleading whine slowly escaped her as she tried to shift without disturbing Zoey.

“Cat rules, Rums: can’t disturb her until she wants to get up,” Mira told her, taking another sip of tea.

The whine came again, this time a little louder. Zoey groaned, fidgeting a little but remaining asleep.

Mira chuckled softly as she set her mug down on the coffee table. She then moved to the other side of the couch, gently taking Zoey’s shoulders. The younger girl made a noise of protest until her sleep addled mind realized who was moving her. She then proceeded to koala herself against Mira’s body, and the pair settled into the corner of the couch.

Rumi took her time sitting up. All of her limbs and joints were stiff from sleeping on the bottom of their cuddle pile. She stretched her arms high above her head, a large yawn escaping her as she did so. She then slouched forward, eyes half-lidded as she let out a content huff.

She turned to Mira, who was…staring. A slight blush had even formed on the dancer’s cheeks.

Rumi was suddenly awake, shrinking into herself as events started to catch up with her. “Mira? What’s…what’s wrong? I—”

“Hey, hey! Chill, Rumi,” Mira rushed to tell her, trying to keep her voice down to avoid waking Zoey, “You’re ok, it’s just… Uh… How do I put this?”

Rumi’s hands subconsciously migrated to her exposed shoulders, her fingers wrapping around her arms. She didn’t dig in, but the action caused her to wince and pull her right hand away to better inspect it. What she saw were claws instead of her usual nails - they weren’t the full length they had been earlier but there was no mistaking them once looking up close. “Oh,” Rumi uttered, “I…I still have…”

She glanced back at Mira, who was doing her best to smile encouragingly when she very clearly had no idea how to do so.

“It’s…more than just the claws, isn’t it?” Rumi asked quietly.

“Uh…yeah,” Mira confirmed with a wince. She didn’t know how sensitive this subject was just yet but it didn’t feel right to not tell her.

Especially since Rumi would definitely notice once she saw her reflection.

She still had one of each eye - that one feature seemed to be consistent regardless of the rest of her form. Her patterns also remained, although they had settled into a cool, neutral iridescent tone that reflected back different colours as the light hit them. Her yawn had been more…cat-like than it usually was, momentarily displaying pronounced canines on both her upper and lower jaws. But what had Mira hung up were her ears: they weren’t long but they were noticeably pointed. And they…reacted to things. Like now, as her stress was starting to increase they seemed to droop a little, as if the energy needed to hold them up normally was being spent somewhere else.

Mira could see Rumi spiralling from across the couch. Her yellow eye didn’t have the narrower pupil but she could still see how her eyes were contracting, how her chest had started to move up and down a little quicker. She thought she’d offer an out. “Do…you need to…” She jerked her thumb over her shoulder, pointing toward the elevator.

Rumi nodded quickly, then practically vaulted over the back of the couch.

Zoey stirred at the sudden weight shift on the couch, followed by the hurried footsteps disappearing deeper into the penthouse. “Mir…” she mumbled, rubbing her eye with a sleepy groan, “What’s going on?”

“Rumi’s just…” Mira swallowed. She knew they still had yet to talk about everything, and had a feeling that was on the horizon. So much had occurred in quick succession, and answers were still needed. Mira felt the questions she had for Rumi just festering away in her head, demanding to be heard. “Rumi’s still…going through some stuff.”

“Is she ok?” Zoey sat up, wide awake in an instant, her eyes immediately peering into the darkness as she debated going after her friend.

“She’s fine. We’ll give her a minute,” Mira told her, gently rubbing her hands over Zoey’s forearms, “I think she just needs to process this on her own.”

Zoey frowned. “Process what?”

Rumi stared at herself in the mirror. The bathroom lights were so bright, casting everything into sharp focus. Why had her body changed so much? Before it had just been the patterns, which were annoying enough to try to hide. But what was she going to do now? Wear earmuffs or a hood all the time? Tinted sunglasses? Gloves? And now the patterns covered every inch of skin so… Was she just…not supposed to leave the apartment anymore?

Part of her thought that was a good idea.

She brought a shaky hand up to her mouth, pushing her upper lip up to get a better look at her fangs. Looking closer, one was a little longer than the other - the shorter corresponding to the one that had broken during all the chaos. (Thankfully it had healed, probably during one of her transformations. She hadn’t been looking forward to that dentist visit.) From a distance they could pass as canines, perhaps unusually long ones (the longer one did peek out from behind her closed lip just a little). But lifting her lip revealed just how much higher into her gums they disappeared. She could feel her heart begin to beat faster, her breathing picking up in pace. And to her utter horror, she watched as those fangs grew in response to her building panic.

She stepped away from the mirror, hands reaching for her shoulders out of fear-driven muscle memory. Her amber eye started to glow, as did the patterns on her skin. They picked up that harsh pink they had been earlier, tingling on her flesh. She screwed her eyes shut as her head began to pound, the bright lights just being too much. A growl escaped her throat before she could stop it - a real, animalistic growl. One hand slapped across her mouth while the other grasped at her neck. She winced at the feeling of claws on her skin, but it was all she could do to try and keep quiet.

She dared another glance in the mirror, immediately regretting it when she saw that she had changed even more. The skin on her hands had turned dark purple, and was creeping up her forearms. The patterns burned - she could swear she heard her skin sizzling as fear and shame amplified within her.

Why was this happening? She had been so calm, so at peace. And now…

The pain in her head suddenly reached a tipping point, her hands flying to her temple as the skin there split open and dark purple horns grew out. She reared back, letting out a roar of pain as her vision spun and the floor seemed to rise to meet her knees.

The door slammed open, figures rapidly approached in her periphery, and out of instinct she snarled at them. Fear was overriding every other thought in her head, her heart beating so loud she barely heard anything else.

God she felt like a cornered animal.

But that’s because she was. She was nothing but a creature, some feral beast. Not human, not like her friends or Celine or Bobby or anyone else. Just a half-demon freak, a monster monster MONSTER—

“…mi…Ru… Hey, look…me. Rumi!”

Two pairs of concerned brown eyes filled her vision. She tried to retreat but her back hit something cool and hard, the faint thump against glass telling her terrified brain she was pressed against the shower. Clawed hands grabbed her shoulders, and she ignored the sharp pain as her skin broke. She just needed to curl into as tight a ball as possible, to keep them from getting hurt.

“Rumi.” That was Zoey, so soft and kind. “Hey, it’s ok. You’re ok. Can I touch your shoulder?”

She managed to shake her head, backing into her corner even more. “T…too dangerous,” she uttered, wincing at the demonic shift to her voice.

“I’ve seen worse.” Mira, levity in her tone, but also patient and calm.

Rumi grit her teeth together, her fangs sharp against her lip. “Don’t know…why,” she stuttered, “Things were…ok and now they’re…”

“Just breathe, Rumi. Worry about your claws later,” Mira told her, “You’re freaking yourself out, which I don’t think is helping.”

A pained whine escaped Rumi’s throat as she fought through the headache. She focused on her breathing, trying her best to regulate the air coming into her lungs. Her heart gradually began to slow to a normal rate, and as it did it felt less and less like the world was ending again. “You…you can…” she stammered breathlessly, peeking up at Zoey.

Zoey took one look at the pitiful sliver of gold just begging for emotional connection and moved in. She gently reached for Rumi’s cheek, now experienced in offering comfort in such a way. Mira went for Rumi’s hands, gently prying the claws out of her shoulders and guiding them together between the girls. Rumi felt herself relax further, feeling safe under her girls’ touch.

“Oh! I think freaking out does make it worse,” Zoey gasped. She moved to pat Rumi’s head, the singer bracing for her to land on one of her unnatural horns. But instead, Zoey’s hand just laced through her messy hair, pulling a few more strands loose from her braid.

“I think so,” Mira agreed, watching as the claws on Rumi’s hands shrunk, disappearing fully from the left hand and reducing down to almost impossible to tell on the right. Even the dark purple skin faded back to normal, just leaving the glowing patterns behind.

“What?” Rumi moved to stand, the other two remaining close by. She hesitantly approached the mirror again, stopping when her stomach met the counter. She braced a hand on either side of the sink, gripping the edges tight. “I…I don’t know what’s happening,” she admitted, her voice timid and shaky as she regarded the bicoloured eyes, the patterns, the fangs. Her goddamn ears moved, for crying out loud! Right now they were flattened back, defensive even. And her patterns shimmered with a few different colours, but that hot pink was prevailing.

“Th…the Honmoon was supposed to…” An anxious hand reached for the scar, still glittering like opal, on her chest. “It…it should have…”

Zoey and Mira shared a worried glance. “Should have what, Rumi?” Zoey asked quietly.

“Fixed…me,” Rumi uttered, the words falling pathetically from her mouth.

Mira frowned, her expression sharp and disapproving. “That would imply there was anything to fix,” she stated firmly.

Rumi felt her ears lower further. “But…Mira, look at me,” she insisted weakly, gesturing to the mirror as if it somehow proved her point.

“I’ve been looking at you,” Mira told her, “This whole time, Rumi! It…it’s a change, yes. But your appearance doesn’t bother me nearly as much as you think it does.”

“I think…” Zoey interjected softly, pausing briefly to try to swallow the nervous lump in her throat. “I…I think it’s pretty, Rumi. Your eye, I mean.”

Rumi stared at her, mouth agape and eyes wide. “You… But it’s…a demon’s eye,” she stuttered, confident despite giving the flimsiest argument possible.

“And…it’s pretty,” Zoey assured her. She drew a deep breath, finding more certainty in herself as she continued, “And actually it’s almost kinda reassuring? You know, because it glows it reminds me of campfires or a candle in the window when it’s storming outside… You know, something warm and comforting and offering this, like, safety in the dark. And it’s a sign that you’re there, even if I can’t see the rest of you. And it also looks really cool—”

She stopped at the sight of tears. Rumi blinked back the moisture in her eyes, but not before some of it managed to escape. Zoey froze, afraid she had gushed too much and made Rumi uncomfortable. But instead, Rumi sniffled and asked quietly, “Y…you really think… Seeing this—” She gestures to the golden eye. “—makes you feel…safe?”

Zoey nodded, an earnest smile on her face. Rumi couldn’t hold the tears back, and as they started to fall the patterns on her skin began to glow a soft, shimmery blue. “Whoa,” Zoey gasped, her own eyes lighting up like stars, “That’s amazing. I didn’t know patterns could change colour like that.”

Rumi glanced down, fingers ghosting over glowing patterns on her arms. The longer she stared, the more purple and pink began to flood into the blue lines. “I…I didn’t know they could, either. Not like this,” she admitted, “They’ve only ever just been purple, except for when they started glowing pink during the show…”

Her voice trailed off, the mention of the previous night sucking the air out of the room. Mira frowned, fighting back the follow up question on her tongue. Now was the time, the perfect opening to start getting answers. And she rarely ever let opportunities like this slide, seeing as she usually had to force conversations into directions she desired.

But Rumi was still shaking slightly, her patterns shifting from calm, perhaps even sad shades of blue and purple and gradually creeping into something more stressed. She recognized that hot pink that was started to line the edges of some of the larger marks. Mira would never see that neon colour the same again, forever associating it with her friend’s utter panic and unbelievable pain.

When she had taken too long to ask, to press further into discussing what happened, Mira spotted Zoey opening her mouth. “Rumi…” the maknae began hesitantly, “Are you up to—”

Before she even finished, Rumi’s eyes widened and took on the same kind of raw fear Mira was certain trapped foxes feel as the hounds close in. The pink overwhelmed the rest of the colours on her skin, and her breathing froze before her chest started to heave.

It made Mira’s decision easy. “No,” she stated firmly, “Not tonight.”

Zoey shot her a confused glance. “But Mira—”

Mira shook her head. She glanced down at her phone to check the time. “It is…12:28am,” she announced, “Entirely too early and late to be having world shattering conversations. I want to talk about it more than anyone, but not now.” She observed the pair, disheveled and exhausted and still in most of their tattered costumes. She drew a deep breath, and ordered, “Get cleaned up, change, do whatever to make yourselves comfortable. I’ve already made tea but I’ll also make some soup. Then after we’ve eaten we’re going to go back to sleep until we’re awake when the sun is up.”

“Are you…sure?” Rumi wondered as she crossed her arms over her middle. A lot went unsaid from her expression, the main one being confusion. Of all people, she didn’t expect Mira to want to back away from answers after everything.

“No,” Mira admitted with a shrug, “But I am sure of one thing: I need a shower.”

“I could definitely use one of those,” Zoey agreed with a grimace, “I should have tried to get my make up off first before sleeping.”

“Then it’s settled,” Mira agreed, turning to leave Rumi’s bathroom along with Zoey.

Rumi still stood there in confusion, eyes darting between them and the door. “B…but—”

“Comfy clothes first,” Mira ordered with a soft smile, “Then we’ll go from there.”

The singer watched her companions go, and suddenly she found herself alone in her bathroom once more. Although the sheer panic had receded quite a bit. She turned back to the mirror, forcing herself to ignore the demon traits and instead take in everything else and she winced. Mira was right: she also needed a shower.

— — —

The pot of Dak Gomtang simmered away on the stove, filling the whole kitchen with a warm, comforting aroma. Zoey was seated at the kitchen island, watching as Mira stirred the soup. Both had showered and changed into pyjamas, and were just waiting for their third. Rumi wasn’t taking so long to cause worry just yet - both knew her hair usually doubled her shower time on a good day, and with how messy her braid was after everything that happened, they knew she’d be a while.

Zoey had her arms crossed in front of her, her form slumped over the counter. “Mir?” she began hesitantly.

“Nuh-uh: I know that tone,” Mira cut in, as nonchalant as ever, “We agreed no talking about it.”

“I wasn’t going to try,” Zoey protested, “I was gonna ask…why you don’t want to talk about it?”

Mira sighed, glancing back down at the soup as she stirred it. “Because I know it’s going to be a lot,” she replied simply, “And right now, we’re all tired and hungry, which will make everything worse.”

Zoey couldn’t refute that logic, thinking about the scenario in which they try and talk about what happened while they were all sleep deprived and bordering on the edge of hangry. After a moment, she let the issue drop. But her mind never let her sit quietly. “Does it feel…weird, to you?” she wondered, “Like, last night at this time we were… A…and now we’re just sitting in our kitchen making soup! Like nothing bad happened!”

“I mean, that’s the life we signed up for,” Mira pointed out, “One night, it’s a sold-out concert. The next night, we’re hunting down monsters from the underworld. Then the next night, we’re piled up on that couch in our pyjamas watching a movie. Sensational and strange just come part and parcel with the few moments of normalcy we get.”

“Yeah, but… It feels like something’s changed, this time. Even if this—” She gestured around at the scene before her. “—is something we’ve done a million times before.”

“Something has changed,” Mira reminded her, her voice quiet and subdued, “A lot has changed.”

Zoey sunk lower on the stool, curling further into herself. Her mind wandered into thinking about all the changes Mira was alluding to, and very quickly she found the attached feelings about each change overwhelming.

Before she had a chance to reflect on any of them, the elevator chimed its arrival. Zoey shot to her feet, waiting expectantly next to the island. It took everything in her not to rush forward, ready to smother the person stepping out of the elevator in a hug. But she had the common sense to hold back.

And she was glad she did, because Rumi looked like a spooked alley cat as she entered the kitchen. She stepped quietly - too quietly - into the space, making herself to be as small and non threatening as possible while at the same moment being hyper-vigilant for potential threats to her. Mira removed the spoon from the pot, setting onto a ceramic spoon holder that clinked against the counter, and Rumi flinched at that.

“Rums,” Mira greeted slowly, gently, “You ok?”

Rumi swallowed tightly and gave a faint nod. Clearly a lie, but they weren’t going to call her out on it yet. Not when she looked like she was trying to disappear inside her oversized hoodie like a turtle into its shell.

At least she changed her clothes, Zoey thought as she took in their leader’s appearance. And showered, it seemed. Her hair was still a little damp, and styled in a far more casual braid just to get it under some semblance of control. But she was a little disappointed to see that Rumi had covered up again, the hoodie and long pyjama pants acting as painful symbolism. That is until she spotted Rumi’s bare feet, and exposed hands, the patterns on them dancing in all sorts of colours. It was a small gesture, but baby steps were better than no steps.

“I…” Rumi coughed, her voice dry and cracked. “I…just…”

Zoey didn’t hesitate. She went to the fridge and grabbed a bottle of water, presenting it to Rumi with a comforting smile.

Rumi accepted the offer, and took a few small sips before trying again. “I…died,” she stated, her voice lifting slightly at the end as if it were almost a question.

Zoey and Mira shared a concerned glance. “You…don’t remember?” Zoey clarified with a wince.

Rumi shook her head. “It just kind of…hit me,” she said, her bicoloured eyes unfocused and staring off…somewhere, “When I was changing, and I saw the…scar. I guess I didn’t realize how bad it was.”

Mira said nothing, her expression simply setting into deep resolve as she pulled out some bowls and started serving the soup. She set a bowl on the counter closest to Rumi, along with a spoon, and merely nodded as an invitation.

When Rumi eyed the soup with a questioning tilt of her head, Mira sighed. “Eat something,” she stated, “Then have an existential crisis.”

Zoey frowned, thinking that to be a little harsh, especially considering Rumi’s state. But to her surprise, Rumi merely nodded and plopped down on the barstool, stirring the soup in the bowl before taking a small sip. Zoey sat back down on her own stool slowly, eyes never leaving Rumi until a bowl was set down in front of her. Mira dragged the third stool around so she could sit across from them (and keep an eye on both of her girls), then began to help herself to her own bowl.

Zoey slowly worked on her soup. It was delicious, as always when it came to Mira’s cooking. The dancer had a gift when it came to Korean comfort food, always making dishes that just tasted like home even if it was something Zoey had never tried before. A quick glance to her left told her Rumi was enjoying it too. Her patterns on her cheeks and hands had shifted away from the worried purples and pinks and into a much calmer blue, with periodic flashes of pastel rainbow tones that reminded Zoey of those sun catchers with the crystal imbedded in them.

Zoey’s leg began to bounce subconsciously when she noticed Rumi’s ears were still pointy. Though now that they were sitting in a neutral position on her head, they didn’t look that different, as if she were just wearing cosplay elf ears. She still had claws, too, but only on her right hand. Zoey gripped her spoon a little tighter. The claws, paired with the sight of her golden eye earlier, plus the little peeks of fangs she would catch when Rumi would open her mouth for a new bite, pushed Zoey to the edge of caving. She bit her lip to try to keep the question in, but she couldn’t take it anymore.

“Ok, I gotta know!” she exclaimed, shattering the quiet of their apartment and causing both other girls to jump at her sudden declaration, “What’s it like?”

Rumi blinked at her, not fully recovered from the energy Zoey just exhibited. Mira groaned and pinched the bridge of her nose. “Zoey, you can’t just ask someone that!” she reprimanded.

“Sorry! It’s just… It’s so cool!” Zoey said with a wince.

“…Cool?” Rumi asked, her face contorting into a confused frown.

“I mean, I know there’s a lot that isn’t cool,” Zoey rushed to clarify, “But, dude, when you screamed/roared and all those demon rifts fell under your control? Ooh! Or when you grabbed that one demon and—”

“I thought we agreed not to talk about last night?” Mira sighed, pointedly raising an eyebrow with exhaustion clearly evident in her expression.

“I’m not talking so much as I’m gushing,” Zoey corrected, “Only good things. I swear.”

Mira stared at her for a moment, but caved almost immediately. “Fine,” she relented, then turned to Rumi, “You were pretty sick.”

Rumi’s gaze flicked rapidly between them, her head moving so fast she could give herself whiplash. “I…I was?” she demanded, “Y…you mean you guys weren’t scared?”

“Oh, you were definitely terrifying,” Zoey stated, “But like, in a good way? You know what I mean?”

“Like in the ‘I am so glad she’s on our side’ kind of way,” Mira added, which Zoey passionately nodded along to.

Rumi was still stunned, her eyes wide and her expression dumbfounded. “But… I was…” She looked down at her hand, at the claws where fingernails should be. “I’m still…”

Zoey reached over to her, her gaze gentle and reassuring. She paused before making contact, her hands hovering just above Rumi’s. “Is it ok if I…” she murmured, making a point of waiting for an answer, her face set with such determination that Rumi could keep her there for years before giving an answer. But instead, she replied right away in the form of a timid nod, and Zoey took that clawed hand in hers. “They’re like a bird’s,” she observed as she pressed the end of Rumi’s index finger, trying to get a sense of the anatomy. The pad of Rumi’s finger was still soft and squishy, but she could feel where the claw started under the skin. “You probably want to be careful about trimming them. We don’t really know where the quick is, so if you treat them like finger nails it could be pretty painful,” she stated, mostly beginning to ramble to herself from what she knew about animal biology.

Rumi floundered for a moment as she processed that advice. “Well I…”

“They can grow on their own, right?” Mira added, eyeing the dark claws from across the table, “So is it like a magic size change kind of thing, or something more like a cat’s claws?”

“Hmm, I don’t think they’re like a cat’s,” Zoey replied, “I’m pressing the pad and more isn’t really unsheathing.”

“Ok, I don’t know if this is really—”

“Hey, look here,” Mira ordered. Rumi was too stunned to really question it, and once Mira had her attention, she added, “Do this for me.” She then showed her teeth in something like a smile that wasn’t a smile.

Again, Rumi was just so floored she followed the command without questioning it.

Mira leaned across the counter, carefully inspecting Rumi’s new fangs. “Huh. The one that broke is fully intact,” she observed, “Guess you won’t need a dentist after all.”

“But it’s still a—”

Something prodded the upper part of her ear, and the whole thing moved, flicking as it tried to shake off the ghostly feeling of the touch left behind. Rumi slapped a hand over it and cast a glare at the offender.

“What? I think it’s cute!” Zoey stated in defence.

Someone gently flicked her other ear, causing a similar reaction from both the appendage and Rumi. Covering both ears now, she shot an annoyed glance at Mira.

“That is pretty cute,” Mira argued.

Rumi huffed. “Look: they’re not…cute, ok?” she protested, crossing her arms over her chest and shrinking down in her seat, “I…I don’t know if I can change things back to normal. I tried while I was in the bathroom and nothing seemed to be working.”

“Rumi…” Zoey began gently.

“No, Zoey.” Rumi swallowed tightly, her grip on her arms tightening. The patterns visible on her face and hands started to shift, purple ink beginning to bleed over the pearl. “This is serious! I…I don’t look human, anymore! The patterns would have been hard enough to explain but claws and fangs and yellow eyes? What am I supposed to do?”

“I say you own it,” Mira told her, “Who gives a fuck what anyone else says? You saved the whole damn world looking like that - that should give you the right to do whatever you want.”

“Well what if I…don’t…want to look like this.” The admission started out strong, but it ended with the words falling pathetically from her mouth. She bit her lip, feeling the fangs press against her skin and that only drove the salt deeper. “What if the rest of my life I look like… I…I know this is me and I should be embracing it but I’m only twenty-four and now my body is going to be…this? Forever?”

“Hey, it’s ok,” Zoey told her softly, “We’ll figure it out.”

Mira said nothing at first, merely getting up from her seat and moving around the island. When she stood before Rumi her gaze softened, and she reached out to gently cup Rumi’s face on either side, her long fingers caressing the half-demon’s pointed ears. Her thumb brushed over the long pattern on Rumi’s cheek under her watering eye, every movement so soft and filled with love - it said more about what Mira felt than any word could.

“I know it’s a lot to take in,” she began carefully, “Now that the adrenaline is gone, the pain and fear are going to rise to the surface. And you’re probably going to feel stuff like that, as the realization hits that things aren’t going to be the same ever again.”

She sighed, feeling her own eyes start to blur with tears as Rumi nestled further into her hold. “But I need you to know that, no matter what: I love you... We love you. Nothing in this world will ever change that, even if there are times when we’re frustrated or freaked out. Nothing will ever make us see you any differently. You’re our Rumi, and you’re beautiful, no matter what form your body takes.”

Zoey sniffled loudly next to them. “Mirraaaa,” she squealed, then launching herself at them so fiercely that Rumi would have fallen off her stool had Mira not been there supporting her, “I love you, too Rumi! Both of you! You’re the most important people in my life. And Rumi: you could be your full demon self and I would still love you!” She couldn’t stop the blush from spreading across her face when she admitted: “Actually your full demon form was kinda hot.”

Rumi stiffened underneath them. Her patterns flashed a multitude of colours before settling on pink, though this pink wasn’t the harsh, saturated magenta. It was softer, more of a blush pink. She merely blinked, her mouth drawn into a tight line. One could almost imagine the little spinning beach ball in her head. “Really?” Mira groaned as she levelled Zoey a tired look, “I think you broke Rumi.”

“What? She was!” Zoey replied defensively.

Mira smirked, coughing out a little laugh at Rumi’s flabbergasted expression and Zoey’s flustered wince. “So were you Team Edward or Team Jacob?” she asked. The grin on her face could only be described as “shit-eating”.

“Stop!” Zoey whined, “Don’t come at me like that!” She lightly smacked Mira’s arm and back, only making the dancer laugh at her more.

But then one slap hit a spot on Mira’s back that wiped the grin from her face. She clenched her teeth, letting out a hiss of pain as she folded in on herself. The other two immediately leapt into action, Zoey jumping away with frantic apologies already on her tongue. Rumi was on her feet, moving around Mira.

“Guys, it’s fine,” Mira grumbled, “It’s just a scratch. I took care of it.”

“On your back?” Rumi demanded.

“It wasn’t that bad,” Mira insisted.

“I didn’t hit you that hard,” Zoey pointed out.

“Mira: if it was me, you already would have been on my case for trying to hide it,” Rumi reminded her, her tone serious but her expression was soft.

Soft enough to make Mira fold. “Dammit,” she muttered. She then tugged the back of her sleep shirt up.

She had managed to reach around enough to dab at the wound with antiseptic, and had wrapped gauze around her mid section and shoulder to try to cover it. It had been hard to see exactly how big the wound was: it was placed right in the middle of her back, where even craning her neck and a mirror couldn’t get the whole picture. So she had missed the fact that the wound needed more than gauze.

“Are you serious?” Zoey demanded, “You’ve been walking around with that this whole time?”

Mira winced. “That bad, huh?” she wondered.

Rumi took one look at the bloody material and assumed full leader mode without hesitation. “Bathroom. Now,” she commanded. Mira didn’t argue.

Zoey offered to clean up, and soon enough Mira was alone with Rumi in the dancer’s bathroom, both sitting on the edge of the tub while Rumi gently cleaned the ugly scratches on Mira’s back. Mira flinched at the burning contact.

“Sorry,” Rumi murmured apologetically, reaching for the steri-strips.

Mira let out a breathy chuckle. “Serves me right for letting my guard down,” she commented.

Rumi got to work, skillfully unwrapping the bandages and placing them on Mira’s skin. “How did this happen, anyway? I didn’t see you take a hit.” She swallowed roughly, loud enough for Mira to hear. “It wasn’t… I didn’t… Did I?”

“No,” Mira replied firmly and swiftly, “It was during that last battle. I can’t remember which one of the Saja Losers it was - one of the pink ones.” She sighed heavily, gritting her teeth as she felt Rumi pulling the wounds closed. “It was when Gwi-Ma attacked you. I…I wanted to get to you but…”

“Hey: it’s ok,” Rumi assured her. She let out a small smirk, adding, “I thought we agreed not to talk about it?”

“You’re the one who asked,” Mira reminded her with a stiffened shrug. Rumi moved on to the next scratch line. Quiet fell between them. It was a calm kind of silence, mostly comfortable as Rumi worked. But the little part that wasn’t comfortable started to nag at Mira, like a mosquito buzzing around her ear. Just one little thing that specific moment from the previous night left in her head that she couldn’t shake.

“I guess… Jinu wasn’t…so…bad after all,” Mira grumbled, “Although the bar is still practically on the floor.”

Rumi merely hummed, continuing to work in silence. Mira caught her reflection in the mirror shiny glass wall across from them. The singer’s eyes were downcast, her expression one of deep thought. “Look: I…I’m sorry,” she atoned softly, “If…if he really meant something to you, then it sucks that he…”

“He doesn’t mean that… Well, he does…” Rumi huffed in frustration. “I didn’t care for him in that way, you know?” she explained hesitantly, “He…he found out about my secret. And I was able to talk to him about it.”

“You could have talked to us,” Mira told her, her voice a little colder than she intended.

“I…I know. But it’s easy to say that in hindsight,” Rumi replied.

“I guess… I’m mostly upset you thought he was somehow a better person to trust than us. Than me,” Mira returned, “Like, here’s this good-looking guy who sweeps in and suddenly the two of you are being shipped together by the fans and you did seem to have this weird chemistry going on…”

Rumi merely shrugged. She finished off the second scratch, deftly opening a new package with a claw before moving on to the next gash. “Well… Trusting him blew up in my face,” she stated bitterly, “He used what I told him in confidence to set a trap for me during the Idol Awards. He knew it would hurt.”

She let out a heavy sigh, eyeing the scar-like patterns on her fingers as she worked on the stitches. “I really thought I could help him, and I guess I did,” she revealed quietly, “But Gwi-Ma’s influence was too powerful. I think Jinu wanted to help, but he didn’t have a choice. And while I… I understand that, what he did… What he made me go through…”

Mira was quiet for a moment, staring forward with a scowl. Jinu was lucky Gwi-Ma killed him, in her opinion. Because if she ever got her hands on him…

“I didn’t love him, to make it clear,” Rumi continued, finally finding the courage to say it out loud, “I did kinda hope he could be a friend. But I didn’t really see him as a boyfriend. Maybe…maybe something like a brother?”

Mira raised an eyebrow. “A brother?”

Rumi shrugged. “I don’t know… Maybe it’s stupid. But I just thought…he could teach me…how to be a demon,” she said, finishing up another scratch and moving on to the last one.

“Look: as someone who has a brother, it’s not that great. Trust me,” Mira told her. She sighed, then relented, “I mean… Maybe it wouldn’t have been as bad - my family isn’t a good frame of reference for anything except for shitty parenting.”

Rumi hummed in agreement, getting fresh bandaging ready.

“But you can turn to us,” Mira continued, “We may not be demons but we know you, Rumi. We can help you with whatever you need.”

Rumi smiled softly. “Thanks, Mira,” she sighed gratefully. Switching over to the business at hand, she added, “Now lift your arms up for me.”

“Oh… I see how it is,” Mira replied slyly as she did as she was told, “Zoey’s going to be jealous.”

“I’m treating your wound, you dork,” Rumi shot back as she wrapped the bandaging around Mira’s midsection.

“Still… She’ll be sad she missed this,” Mira pointed out.

“Thankfully we didn’t talk about anything too earth shattering,” Rumi stated, “But we should get back—”

Suddenly, a high pitched scream came from the floor above, loud enough to be heard clear as day through the concrete floor/ceiling.

Mira whipped around, their frantic eyes meeting. Together, they exclaimed:

“ZOEY!”

Rumi got there first, teleporting into their living room before she even thought to use the ability. Her sword was already in her hand, and fangs bared into a furious snarl as she prepared for a fight. The elevator dinged only a few seconds later, and Mira exploded out before the doors even had a chance to finish opening.

“Zoey! We’re here! What—” She froze, her defensive stance dropping and her gok-do falling limply to the side. “What?”

Rumi blinked, going through a similar reaction.

Zoey was fine. More than fine. She was currently lying face-down, letting out a delighted squeal as she nuzzled into a soft, pale blue belly. “Look who came back!” she cried as she furiously rubbed the blue tiger’s sides.

The bird flitted over to the back of the couch. It looked at Mira, then gave her a look coupled with a little head nod that could only be read as “Sup?”.

“Uh… Hi?” Mira replied dumbly.

“I am so happy!” Zoey giggled, the tiger letting out a croaky purr in agreement, “I was so worried about these guys after the Honmoon reformed.”

“I guess they’re spirits, not demons,” Rumi said as she entered the living room, squatting down next to the tiger’s head to give him a scratch, “But even if they were demons, they seem like nice ones.”

“I thought demons were never nice?” Zoey reminded her with a smug smile. The kind that said “I told you so” without actually having to voice it. “But now I know that’s bullshit, because you’re a nice demon.”

“Well, half demon,” Rumi corrected, “But I see your point.”

“So… What are we calling these guys, since I think ‘Bird’ and ‘Tiger’ aren’t going to cut it.” They glanced over at Mira, who already had the bird resting on her shoulder. The pair looked made for each other in every sense.

Zoey gasped, shooting upright and clapping her hands excitedly. “So we’re keeping them?”

“We can’t exactly let them run loose through the city,” Rumi pointed out, “I think they kinda come and go whenever they want, but maybe we can encourage a main home base for them?”

“Ohmigosh ohmigosh!” Zoey shot to her feet and began to pace back and forth. “Ok, don’t freak out: you’ve only wanted a big, fluffy idiot cat since forever and now you have one and he needs a name. Wait…is it a ‘he’? Probably, but maybe pick something neutral just in case.”

“She’s going to be at that for a while,” Mira sighed as she plunked down on the couch. The bird fluttered away onto the coffee table, dropping something shiny down on the surface. Mira squinted at the vaguely familiar object, then slapped a hand to her ear. “How the fuck did you get that off my ear?” she demanded as she glared at the earring thief.

“Ooh… He’s looking sus,” Zoey commented, “Look at his little face.” Her expression brightened as she gasped in delight. “Oh I know! Sussie.”

“Sussie?” Mira repeated with a raised eyebrow.

“Yeah, because he’s suspicious. The little hat makes him look like he’s scheming,” Zoey replied.

The bird - Sussie - actually smiled at that. The corners of his mouth tipped upward in a way that should be unnatural for a bird, then he nodded in agreement.

“Ok, Sussie it is,” Rumi determined.

“Now what about you?” Zoey wondered, crouching down in front of the tiger. He rolled back over and sat up, staring in two different directions while his face was angled right at her. His giant, dumb grin never left his face. Mira swore she saw a fly buzz in one ear and leave from the other. Zoey met him in a staring match she had no hope of winning, trying to look deep within those vacant eyes to find something.

After a moment, she nodded sagely. “Derpy.”

“Derpy?” Rumi and Mira repeated in unison.

“Derpy,” Zoey confirmed, rising back to her feet so she could move to sit down on the couch.

Derpy responded to his new name with a croaking sound resembling an old wooden floor, then lumbering forward toward her.

“W…wait, what are you doing? No, Derpy! Down! Heel! Sit! Nodon’tsit—”

Only Zoey’s flailing limbs were visible as the giant tiger flopped down on top of her. After a moment she managed to poke her head out from under his fluffy chest, sucking in a deep gulp of air. “Little help?” she pleaded, glancing over to her companions with her best puppy dog eyes.

“Sorry Zoey,” Rumi atoned (though she didn't sound all that sorry). She did move closer, but only so she could settle down on the couch, leaning against the fluffy blue space heater.

“Cat rules,” Mira added, shooting Rumi a knowing smirk as she joined them on the couch.

“Noooooo,” Zoey whined, “I already can’t feel my arm!”

“Ok, fine,” Rumi relented, running two fingers along Derpy’s nose, “Come here, Buddy. Sit on this side.”

Astonishingly, the giant tiger did as was asked. Though he did get to the other side of the couch by standing up and walking over both Zoey and Rumi, briefly smothering/crushing them in the process. “You guys are the ones who wanted a cat,” Mira replied bluntly as the pair rolled around in pain on the couch.

Derpy settled into his spot, taking up far more of the couch than any of them thought he would. But there was still room for the trio to snuggle up together again. Sussie flitted up to his usual spot on the tiger’s head and curled up as well.

“We really should be sleeping in a bed,” Mira groaned. Though her eyes were closed and she had already shifted around to find the most comfortable spot.

“Tomorrow,” Rumi decided, “We’ll sleep normally tomorrow.”

“Our schedule’s already messed up, anyway,” Zoey added, “What’s a couple more hours on the couch gonna do?”

The trio all drew long, deep breaths through their noses, and together released in a three-part harmony of sighs. Silence washed over the penthouse, broken only by gentle breathing and soft purring from Derpy.

“This,” Mira stated as she shifted, allowing Zoey to press herself closer while resting her hand on Rumi’s shoulder, “Is better than any spa or luxury hotel.”

“Definitely,” Zoey agreed with a content sigh.

Rumi nodded in agreement. She couldn’t remember the last time she had ever felt this at peace. Sleep was already beginning to wash over her, but she was practically vibrating with happiness at her situation. She knew difficult discussions still needed to happen, but her worry about that could wait. She had Zoey held protectively in her arms, and her head resting on Mira’s forearm. Derpy’s back foot was touching her leg, his tail occasionally swishing over her bare skin where the pyjama pants had been pushed up. She could even sense one of Sussie’s eyes keeping watch over all of them.

“I love you guys,” she breathed, sincere from the very depths of her soul, “You mean the world to me.”

“We love you, too, Rumi,” Mira replied, her fingers tightening around her shoulder.

“And you mean everything to us,” Zoey added softly.

Rumi let out a small laugh. What felt like immeasurable joy somehow grew even more, and with it came the relief that she was safe to fall asleep now. She would keep them safe, they would keep her safe - there was nothing to fear so long as they laid tangled up in each other’s arms.

Derpy’s purring grew louder, to the point where Zoey and Mira could even feel it.

Rumi fell asleep first, the events of everything dealing the most exhaustion to her. Mira followed not long after, the fight against pain from the scratch on her back finally taking her down. Rumi’s first aid certainly helped, and come morning she expected to feel much better. That left Zoey, allowing herself to be gently lulled to sleep by the sounds of the two people she loved most softly breathing and the soothing sound of Derpy’s purring.

Suddenly, her eyes snapped open when a memory flitted across her mind. Something from a nature documentary about big cats. Just a random little fact that, at the time, she had stored away for the next time a random little fact was needed to ease tension or kill an awkward silence. And that random little fact was this: tigers don’t purr.

Granted, she wasn’t sure if that still applied to spirit tigers, but…

Her gaze flitted upward, taking in the pointed ears and glowing patterns of their leader. She bore a happy smile on her face, the tip of her fang peeking out from her upper lip. And the purring sound definitely was coming from her. Zoey could even feel it in her own chest.

She bit her lip, holding back an excited squeal out of fear she could wake Rumi (and stop the purring). This could wait until tomorrow. A new random little fact that will likely be needed to soften difficult conversations. But for once, the excitement to share didn’t feel like it was killing her. She could live happily with this knowledge and rest easy.

Because over the course of the last 48 hours, she had heard Rumi scream, plead, cry, growl, snarl, roar, and sing like she had never sung before. But this sound? This wonderful, subconscious sound signifying her pure contentment and security in her current situation? This sound that just enveloped them all, bringing healing and peace and love into each of their bodies?

This was Zoey’s favourite sound. This was Rumi, pure and simple. And she couldn’t wait to spend countless nights like this one falling asleep to the gentle rhythm.