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idkwhyh · 9 days ago

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⋆˙⟡ Let the Light In ⟡˙ ⋆

Ch 5: Discoveries

Characters: Rumi x fem!reader

A/N: Holy 6.5k wc. If you are reading this consecutively, take a break before continuing. Anyways. Did I start writing this fic solely because of the aquarium concept art? Yes, yes I did. I wish it were in the movie. But it’s fine aquariums (to me!!) feel more wlw coded anyways so enjoy my interpretation of it.

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

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idkwhyh · 18 days ago

Text

⋆˙⟡ Let the Light In ⟡˙ ⋆

Ch 3: Demons

Characters: Rumi x fem!reader

A/N: Big big chapter that made me hungry at 2 in the morning while writing. Giving you some lore in this universe that will be revealed bit by bit, that way you can still insert yourself without feeling like your character is an OC (an oc is not the intention trust🙏)

In short, she was wrong.

Maybe if Rumi took a second to think about it more logically she would’ve saved a ton of time. Unfortunately, her mind these past few days has been anything but rational. One quick scan through your interview file, generously obtained by Bobby himself, told her all she needed to know. You had history. Here, in this file, was physical proof that couldn’t be fabricated by Gwi-Ma himself. Evidence of your college degree and references from previous employers were laid flat out. A completed background check that, besides a car incident a few years back, was squeaky clean. You were as human as can be. And it only made her patterns worsen.

You had been nothing but kind to her, she knows, and did nothing to warrant such an extensive investigation. Rumi had to throw on a dark gray, form-fitting long sleeve to hide the purple lines creeping up her arms and neck.

“Yours are a reminder too, of a shame of your own.”

Rumi grumbles at the memory, crossing her arms over her chest. Though, he has a point. This remorse over jumping to conclusions, this guilt over treating you so coldly, it only feeds into her overall shame.

Rumi stares at herself in the mirror. There’s still so much she doesn’t know about her patterns. But if there’s one thing she knows for certain, the second she confided in Jinu, her voice grew just a little bit stronger. Her patterns are still too big a secret to share with her girls just yet. But apologizing to you, making it up to you, properly…Rumi wonders if baby steps are the way to go. One confession at a time.

–

Your workday was pretty mind numbing. Between coordinating schedules for the idols, contacting different networks, and sending emails on behalf of Bobby, who was busy tending to the girls’ needs, you ended up being chained to your desk for most of the day. Your only escape was the occasional errand you had to run, which ended up costing you your lunch break. Though it’s nothing compared to the grueling schedule you’ll have in the next few weeks. Your coworkers have already warned you how the real stress ramps up closer to Idol Awards season. Not only would you need to help Bobby prep everything for the show-show, but also the annual pre-show gala the night before, and the post-show events and afterparties for when Huntr/x inevitably comes out on top.

As Bobby updated you on who to get in touch with tomorrow, the floor’s elevator opened, creating a series of gasps and whispers from almost everyone in the room. You see a familiar purple-braided figure approaching you and Bobby when you peer over your cubicle wall.

“Hey Bobby, you mind if I get a word with Y/N? Alone?”

“Oh yeah! I was just getting her up to speed for tomorrow. Y/N, the conference room has the most privacy.” You nod and lead her to the room with bated breath. Surely now Rumi will finally stop beating around the bush and tell you what exactly it was you did to upset her. Up until now, you had been replaying every moment the two of you spent together, wondering what it was about you that ticked her off. Though right now, she seems a lot more mellow than before. No narrowed eyes, no intense staring, maybe I won’t get fired.

You open the doors to the main conference room. You’ve yet to sit in on a meeting here. Lately, anytime Bobby has a one with the higher ups, your job is to take over his other responsibilities. It's amazing he’s gone this long without an assistant. Rumi closes the door behind her and you brace yourself for the worst.

“I’m sorry.”

You straighten. “You’re…sorry?”

Rumi takes a breath. “It takes me a while to warm up to people, but that doesn’t mean I should’ve treated you the way I treated you. I’m not usually this cold to people…and what’s worse is, I didn’t even give you a chance to let you in, I let my first impression get the best of me.”

Oh thank god, you had thought Rumi had hated you from the start. You breathe out a sigh of relief. “Apology accepted.”

“I…would you maybe want to get dinner with me tonight? On me, of course. We could get to know each other better? I hope we can start over.”

Starting over. An idea comes to mind that makes you half smile. You bow and repeat your introduction from the other night. “Hello Rumi, I’m Y/N. I’m honored to be your new assistant manager.” She smiles. It's the first she’s given just for you since meeting, “And I’m Rumi, it’s nice to meet you too.” With that out of the way, she visibly relaxes; her shoulders drop, her jaw unclenches, and there's more of a softness in her eyes.

You walk her out of the conference room. “I have my driver waiting out front, if you want to eat now?” As if on cue, your stomach growls. Not taking your lunch was starting to catch up to you. “I’m not sure if Bobby will let me go early, there’s still so much to be done.”

Rumi hums, pulls out her phone, and types out a quick text. Your phone dings not a moment later.

The notification is a text from Bobby that reads:

“Hey Y/N, we’ve got everything covered over here. You’re free to go early.”

You look back up at Rumi and notice she’s holding back a grin. You can’t help but marvel at the power she holds, and can only imagine what else she could do with just a few simple commands. She leads you out to her car with her driver already sitting patiently in the driver's seat. Rumi opens the door for you first and hops in right after.

You turn to her, “Do you mind if we stop by my apartment so I can change? I’ve been running around in these clothes all day. It’s not too far from here.” She agrees and you tell the driver your address. It doesn’t take very long to get there, you lived so close to the office walking distance wise already. But when you arrived, a part of you felt bad about leaving Rumi waiting so long in the car. The least you could do is offer her to rest inside, right?

“Do you want to come inside with me?” You ask her.

Now that Rumi’s sure you’re not a demon, she wants to put in the effort in getting to know you better. Zoey has already become more attached than the others, starting to chat more with you after practices and over text. Mira’s slowly beginning to warm up to you as well. So she has no qualms about going with you to your place for just a few minutes. If anything, Rumi realizes, seeing your place reveals a lot about a person. “If you want me to,” she replies, already unbuckling her seatbelt.

You knock three times after the two of you climb up the stairs. With it being close to evening, you know exactly who should be on the other side. The door swings open with a loud, squeaky creak.

“Y/N!” Your grandpa shuffles aside, holding open the door. “I didn’t expect you to come back so soon.” Rumi steps into view, “Oh! You finally brought home a girl.” He beams, shuffling forward to introduce himself. Both your eyes widen.

“Grandpa she isn’t—“

“Oh, we not—“

He huffs, waving off your protests and allowing you both to step inside. He closes the door gently, “And here I thought I was finally getting great grandkids sometime soon, breaking an old man’s heart.” He tisks. Grandpa, that's not how that works.

Rumi straightens, clearing her throat and silently praying her flush isn’t noticeable. “It’s nice to meet you, Mr L/N.”

“Come, sit, sit, make yourself comfortable. You must be that Rumi girl Y/N keeps talking about. Unless long purple hair is becoming a popular color.” You shake your head fondly while he sits at the main dining room table. Rumi sits across from your grandpa. You share the same hair color she notes. “I’m gonna go change. I’ll be quick.” You whisper to her, excusing yourself to head towards your room. Once you’re out of view, he turns to Rumi.

“So is it true?”

“Is what true?”

“That you hate her.” He clarifies as if it were obvious.

“Oh! No, I don’t, I never did, I just had the wrong impression. Does—did she think I hate her?” Mr. L/N sips his drink loudly before setting the cup down. “What kind of impression?”

The impression that your granddaughter isn’t human. But she can’t say that. “Well, uh, we all have to be very careful in this…industry,” she clasps her hands, “It can be hard to tell what’s real and what’s not. Y/N is good at what she does, it just took me a minute to see it.”

He leans back. “Does it happen often?” He asks, “Or is it just that it's harder for you to trust in others?” Rumi was unprepared for being put on the spot like this. What is it with everyone reading me so well lately? Am I that predictable?! She thinks to herself.

Before she can answer she’s saved by your door opening. Though when you came back out, she was even more unprepared for seeing you in casual attire for the first time. “Okay, I’m ready.” It takes a cough from your grandpa to snap her back to reality. Rumi clears her throat and stands.

“Before you go,” Mr. L/N gets up right after, “let me grab…Y/N, where are my cardboard boxes?” “Second cupboard next to the stove.” You reply without looking up from looking through your purse.

In the kitchen, your grandpa folds out a cardboard box to pack various fruits; Apricots, nectarines, and enough oranges to supply an army. He hands the overflowing box to Rumi, “Here, for you and your singing friends. The citrus will help the voice.”

Her eyes soften, “That’s very generous of you, Mr. L/N.” Rumi carries the box with ease, her toned bicep and deltoid muscles now more visible under her sleeves. You try not to notice.

He waves off her thank yous. You give him one last hug before leaving, making sure to lock the door behind you. The two of you are escorted back to the car. Rumi places the box on her lap when she sits. For a minute, the two of you sit in comfortable silence.

“He sells fruit at a nearby market.”

Rumi looks over. “Not as often lately. His health has been declining. It’s easier to keep an eye on him when we live together. He always has a surplus nowadays, so I bet he was happy handing some over to you.” Rumi smiles appreciatively. “I wouldn’t mind taking more off his hands,” she shrugs, thinking about his blunt yet caring nature.

“He actually kind of reminds me of Mira.”

The driver didn’t stop at a fancy steakhouse or a luxury restaurant. Instead, Rumi takes you to a hole-in-the-wall Korean Barbecue restaurant tucked away in the city. Rumi pays the owner a near million won upfront in exchange that they’d close the store for the duration of their meal. The owner himself happily leads you to their best table and seats you down with water and menus.

The owner seems to have taken an instant liking to Rumi, offering to bring out all the raw meat and side dishes whenever either of you ask. Rumi takes the lead in grilling the kinds you and her picked: Pork belly, beef bulgogi, and wagyu beef are all placed on the grill. You’re tasked with ordering and fixing the sides; settling on edamame, white rice, corn cheese, and a mix of assorted vegetables to start.

The heat of the grill makes you unzip and shrug off your jacket, and Rumi finally sees a glimpse of the marks that made her dead set on the idea that you were a demon in the first place. They’re not patterns, but a scar that trails down from the edge of your neck and disappears under your shirt. Rumi feels incredibly stupid for her earlier accusations. She doesn’t bother asking how you got it, opting to instead keep the observation to herself and flip over the food.

“So, why K-pop, Y/N?” Rumi makes sure to pay equal attention to both you and the grill. The aroma of searing meat wafts into the air, making your mouth water.

“I actually wanted to be an idol.” You admit, splitting the white rice onto two plates. “But let’s just say I wasn’t really cut out. Instead, I stayed here for a little bit, then got my degree in the states. This is actually my first time back since college. Everything feels different, but also the same, if that makes sense.” There’s much more to the story, but at that moment, you decided to leave it for another time. Death and family drama doesn’t really make for a very good conversation starter. “What about you?”

Rumi places some of the cooked bulgogi onto your plate. She adds some to her own right after, using cooking as a distraction to formulate her thoughts. “It started with my mom. You probably already know she was a Sunlight Sister. I wanted to save the world with my voice, just like she did.” Technically the truth. Rumi knows that she needs to see you as she sees Bobby: Someone she can trust, can confide in, but not someone who can know her about her double life. It should be easy she tells herself when she meets your eyes. Though, something about you makes her think otherwise.

She tries to keep that same pretense the rest of the night. The two of you laugh, bond, share jokes, becoming more than just Idol and employee but friends as the night wears on. Eventually the two of you become stuffed. Rumi lets you lean on her for support after she pays for the meal.

“Are you sure you don’t need a ride home?” Rumi asks. “It’s not very safe to walk around at night.”

“I’ll be fine, I don’t live too far, remember? I have pepper spray in my bag in case things go south.” She shakes her head.

Something in the air causes Rumi to pause. Her expression shifts completely. Her eyes darted down the street, as if she had seen or heard something that was just wrong, something that you couldn’t pick up on. She turns back to you, “Get some rest. I’ll see you tomorrow.” You barely have the chance to say goodbye before she speed walks away in the direction she looked in. Idols, you sigh.

You should’ve gone straight home.

But the glow of a 24 hour convenience store across the street beckons to you like a siren’s call. Surely a little late night sweet treat wouldn’t hurt? The doors jingle when you step through. You strolled down the isles, picking out a sweet red velvet yonsei bread and a small milk to wash it down. Could you stomach take any more food after the amount you ate at the restaurant? Probably not. But for dessert? Absolutely.

Shopping bag in hand you stroll off towards your home. That is until something catches your eye down the many dimly lit alleys surrounding you. Beams of light pierce through the darkness in sharp flashes.

Your immediate thought? Could the Saja Boys be hosting another concert?

You follow the lights to investigate. There’s a distinct lack of music the further you go. Instead, a series of grunts echo from the walls. Footsteps race along the pavement with a sense of urgency.

“Ugh, I’m sick of all these new tears.” A woman says, followed by a fatigued sigh. That voice sounds familiar.

You peer over the corner.

Rumi, Zoey, and Mira are all there with brandished weapons that look as if they were made from light. Mira swings her polearm, slicing a ghastly looking monster in half. The strike vaporizes it into a murky magenta mist. What the hell are those things?

Zoey launches a small blade at the head of one of them, killing it effortlessly. You can’t help the gasp that escapes you. Did you not just witness a murder? And of course, it draws everyone’s attention. “Is someone there?” Rumi’s voice calls out.

A green one-eyed creature locks eyes with you. Its deformed mouth resembles a smile, its eyes glinting with hunger. The creature hisses with its serpentine tongue as it charges towards you. You book it. Whatever it was, it certainly wasn’t human. You on the other hand have to deal with your own human speed. For the briefest second you don’t hear footsteps. Relief overcomes you, only for your hope to be shattered when its large mass pounces on your back, making you eat shit. The bag lands right underneath you as you tumble right onto it.

You roll your body over to get away, but this creature is way stronger than you. Trying to shove it off doesn’t do a thing. Its scaly clawed hands hold down your shoulders to stop your writhing. It smirks, and unhinges its jaw.

This is the end, you think. Of all the ways you imagined your death, dying to the hands of the Green Goblin wasn’t one you had considered.

Just as you’re about to brace yourself for whatever demise it had planned for you, a bright beam of light pierces its body through its stomach, turning it to a flurry of purple mist. You let out a sigh of relief when you see her.

“Y/N?” Rumi reaches out a hand to help you up. Her hands stay on your body as she examines you. Her eyebrows stay furrowed while her eyes scan you all around, trying to make sure you aren’t hurt in any way. Rumi bends down and picks up your crumpled shopping bag, wincing at the contents that no doubt got crushed and spilled when the demon pounced on you. Two other pairs of footsteps come to a stop behind you. You don’t need to look back to know who they belong to.

“I think we owe you an explanation.”

The three take you back to their penthouse. The drive there is silent and tense, and you have to stop yourself from breaking the silence with your growing list of questions. Asking what the deal was with the lightsabers probably isn’t a good icebreaker for the drive home.

After giving you a new change of clothes–the milk stain on your original shirt became much more noticeable in the light–they sit you down on the couch. All three lay on different ends with Rumi as the closest. She starts first, telling the story of demon hunters. Their past, their purpose, and how that all led them to here. You lean forward as you take in all this new information. Demons walking among earth? A protective shield to keep them at bay? And a whole group of protectors that’s been around for generations? Suffice to say your list of questions only grew as they talked.

“Does Bobby know?”

Mira’s lips press to a thin line. “It’s better for him if he doesn’t. The less people who know, the better. It’s how we’re remained secret for so long.”

“So, everything with patterns is a demon?” Rumi stiffens beside you, “Basically. We were so close to sealing the Honmoon for good, but the Saja Boys are ruining it,” she huffs.

“The Saja Boys?” “Oh yeah, they’re all demons. They plan on stealing all our fans and taking their souls for themselves.” You suppress a shudder. It’s no wonder you’ve never heard of any of them before their debut. Rumi’s been awfully quiet since her explanation. She places a tentative hand on your shoulder “Do you need a minute?”

You nod, “I think I need some fresh air.” Rumi helps you stand, her hand hovering near the small of your back until you’re upright. You trudge your body towards the balcony off the main window and lean against the railing as you look at Seoul in a whole new light.

The clattering of pottery draws your attention to the other side of the terrace. You go over to investigate, suspecting it’s just a bird or something causing a ruckus. The last thing you were expecting was to be stared at by two huge glowing orange eyes. Because of course, the night needs to get weirder the second you have a moment of peace.

Emerging from the bushes is a large, blue…tiger? Atop its head sits a magpie wearing a tiny hat. It squawks as the cat approaches, revealing a set of three eyes on either side of its head. Both are equally terrifying, but neither have attacked you yet. Maybe they’re friendly? You think. After all, if not friendly, then why friend shaped? The bird has a hat after all. Truly a distinguished gentleman.

The cat sits before you. Tentatively, you reach out your hand. “What the fuck.” You murmur to yourself as your hand makes contact with the soft fur. In return, the tiger knocks its head against your leg. The cat seems to enjoy your scratches, rolling onto its back for you to rub its stomach. The bird watches you curiously, opting to perch on the railing. You don’t even notice the balcony door slide open behind you.

“Hey Y/N, I brought you some…” Rumi’s words die in her throat when she sees the scene. “Rumi, tell me this isn’t your pet. Shouldn’t exotic animals have more space to roam free? And, why is it blue? You have this thing on a balcony–“ she shoves the small package that was in her hands inside her hoodie’s pocket and rushes to cover your mouth. In the same breath, she pushes you away from the window, trapping you against the edge of the railing. She first looks over her shoulder to make sure Mira and Zoey didn't see the giant tiger outside or hear you talking about the giant tiger outside. Once she deems that the coast is clear, she looks down at you, and immediately blushes when she realizes the position she trapped you in.

Rumi’s hand recoils from your mouth “Oh! I–wow I’m so sorry.” she practically jumps back. When she does, she steps on the tiger’s tail, making him hiss in pain and jump into the greenery sectioned off from the walkable part of the balcony. Its body and large paws collide with a few scattered pots, effectively smashing one or two into a pile of broken pieces. You pick up on the sound of footsteps right before seeing the balcony door slide open.

Mira leans against the doorframe, arms crossed. “Hey, are you two okay out here? I thought I heard something break.”

“Everything's fine! I just tripped over some pots, is all!” Rumi laughs nervously. You turn your head away from Rumi because if you look at her for any longer you’ll burst out laughing. “We’re all good out here,” you manage out, staring at the floor. Wow, the ground looks very interesting today. Mira narrows her eyes, but shrugs, closing the balcony door behind her as she leaves.

You let out a small chuckle, earning a groan from Rumi. The tiger re-emerges from the vegetation, sitting between you and Rumi innocently, as if it hadn’t nearly just blown its cover. “You weren’t supposed to see this…” Is all she says. The cat barfs out a note card with a cute duck on the cover. You hold back a grimace, but pick it up regardless. It reads a message in Korean, signed by none other than the lead Saja Boy himself. “Wait, this is from Jinu?” You look up, “Isn’t he a demon? Why is he asking to meet with you again?”

“I—he—“ She has to stop herself from saying oh, because I’m half demon, and right now he’s the only one who can understand me. “He knows something about me that the others don’t, and it’s something that can jeopardize everything.”

She slumps down on the floor. “Tiger and bird aren’t my pets, they're his. I can’t let Mira and Zoey see them. Hence why I tried to get you away from the windows.” Their names are Tiger and Bird?

You scratch Tiger under his chin, sitting down on the ground too. “Aw,” you coo, “There’s not a single thought behind those eyes.” The bird caws in agreement, Rumi just snorts. You look at her over the blue fur, “Your secret is safe with me.” She sighs in relief.

“Do you plan on meeting him again?” She knows she has to eventually. If she can get through to him, maybe there’s a chance of getting him to turn on Gwi-Ma. “Eventually. He might be the key to taking down Gwi-Ma.” Rumi tilts her head.

“You should drop by the recording studio sometime. The girls would love the extra company now that we have someone who knows who we are. Right now we’re stuck trying to write a song for the Idol Awards that’ll hit the Saja Boys where it hurts. Maybe you can help us? We’ll be there all day tomorrow.”

Rumi reaches into her pocket and hands you the small package from earlier, your fingers brushing at the contact. It’s yonsei bread. The exact same flavor you chose in the convenience store from before. Somehow she remembered, and found one to give to you.

You give one final pat to the blue and black striped feline. “Sounds like a plan.”

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

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