Chapter Text
Mira is still asleep, which in itself isn’t all that surprising, but it is much to the annoyance of both Rumi and Zoey.
Zoey had insisted on braiding Rumi’s hair, a task that usually is done by Mira. Mira is quiet, calculated and patient braiding Rumi’s seemingly endless hair.
Zoey is none of that. Zoey is animated and never has it in her to actually sit still long enough to do Rumi’s hair. Which usually leads to Rumi having to finish the braid herself from her shoulders down. And to be honest, Zoey is the worst braider out of the three of them. Not that it matters today, since they only have practice scheduled. The last one before their tour.
That isn’t the problem with Zoey braiding her hair though, it is the extreme amount of excitement this girl has at freaking seven in the morning. While Rumi needs at least an hour to actually wake up after getting out of bed, Mira even more time than that, Zoey is quite literally bouncing around with energy before even waking up.
“Did you know some turtles can live to be over 150?” Zoey says, about midway Rumi’s scalp.
“Oh really, Zo?” she says groggily. Inwardly she groans, because now Zoey starts talking all about Tortoises, Galapos and Sey-Whatever turtles. Usually she loves listening to Zoey talk to whatever her current obsession was, but not at seven-freaking-AM. Before she even managed to have a single drop of caffeine.
Zoey gets to the base of her head now, where some stubborn hairs refuse to leave the collar of Rumi’s turtle neck. She pulls the collar down slightly, only to still at the light purple marks hidden beneath it.
“Zoey?” Rumi asks, when after a few moments the youngest had barely made a movement. A slight panic settles in her stomach.
It’s like suddenly Zoey remembers again how her body works. “Sorry, just trying to concentrate," she says as she continues to braid.
Rumi tries not to let it bother her too much, as she can feel her collar still slightly pulled down. “... okay?”
“I think I just ran out of turtle facts,” Zoey says with an awkward chuckle. Part of her wonders if she saw it right. Maybe she is just going crazy, no way her best friend had patterns. But as she peaks back at Rumi’s neck she can still see the edges peaking out.
Zoey’s mind is racing, which reflected in her braiding speed. How did Rumi have patterns? Was she always a demon? Did she get cursed? Why didn’t she tell them? Is she that afraid of what they might think? Does Celine know?
Through all the endless questions in her mind, she can still feel some relief. She and Mira have speculated for years about why Rumi never joins them in the bathhouse. They have wondered for years why Rumi’s sleeves got longer and longer, to the point of never showing her arms and neck. Not even during the summer heat, or long days of practise, or sweaty concert halls. Or how she insists on always having her own changing room. It isn’t that Rumi is prudish either, she never has any trouble showing her stomach or legs, nor does she mind her friends changing in front of her.
Zoey was afraid to admit how scared she’d been for her friend. So instead of pushing Rumi, like Mira often would, she gave her the room to hide. Where Mira chooses deliberately to confront her friend, Zoey would always tell her it’s alright. Where Mira would try finding a weak spot in Rumi’s walls to get through, Zoey would try and make her feel safe so Rumi could break that wall down herself.
Zoey’s pulled out of her thoughts when she tries to grab another piece of hair but her hand is met with air. She quickly secures it with a hair tie, trying not to show how deep she’d been in thought.
She pets her hands on Rumi’s shoulders. “All done!” Zoey says a little too enthusiastically to be natural. She can’t resist taking one last look at the patterns.
“Thank you, Zo,” Rumi says a little warily.
“No probs!” Zoey says again, standing up and making her way towards her room. “I’m going to get ready for practice.”
It’s not the first time Zoey sees the way Rumi slightly pulls up her collar and down her sleeves. But it is the first time she knows why.
Just before she bounds down the hallways she turns back to her friend - her demon friend?- her mind corrects. “Mira and I were thinking of heading to the bathhouse after practice… you’re always welcome, no matter what. You know that, right?”
Rumi looks at her with an appreciative, albeit guarded, smile. She gives a slight nod of her head. “You should go get ready,” she deflects.
Zoey returns the gesture with a smile and nod of her own, before trying to calmly make it to her room.
Once in her room her mind picks up its speed again. She can’t help but go over to her album collection. She wants to kick herself for organizing them by vibe instead of release date.
Finding their debut album, she pries open the pages with urgency. The first picture inside is a group photo, while Zoey would always remember what their first shoot had been like, she’d never remembered all their outfits.
In this first picture they’re posing together, in outfits more cutesy than their current concept. Her eyes linger on Rumi’s neck, which had been completely bare. There had been no patterns. She’s seen Rumi without makeup often enough to know she hasn’t hidden them with it years ago. Her eyes go down to Rumi’s sleeves. One arm is bare, but the other arm has a short sleeve.
Flipping through the pages she starts to notice a small pattern- she mildly cringes at the unintended pun she makes in her head-, Rumi would always cover her right arm. While in some photos she had two sleeves, inarguably the normal amount, but in a lot she also had just the one. Always the right arm, she thinks to herself.
Grabbing their second album, she notices the same. Always right.
Zoey’s suddenly pulled back to a memory from over 6 years ago. They had their comeback stage after the release of their second album.
Rumi had been weird about changing in front of them too back then. When she had stepped out from her own room and joined them, Mira had commented on how she’d always wear the one sleeve.
“Guess Celine really wants you to have a signature look,” Zoey had joked lightly.
Rumi had laughed it off back then.
Zoey’s reminded of the fact that Celine had handpicked all their outfits the first years after their debut. That was until the trio wanted to have more freedom for themselves, especially after they decided to want a more girlboss, age appropriate concept.
Zoey flips through more and more albums, only to find the sleeve on her right arm growing more and more. And it wasn’t just down, toward her hand, but it also slowly got higher to her shoulder.
It’s in the 8th album when Zoey sees the switch up from the one sleeve, to both. It all clicks in place. Rumi her patterns had probably grown. She still wore croptops, but always with the long sleeves. It was around the same time Mira had told her about her concerns with Rumi hiding her arms.
Zoey had shaken it off, saying Rumi might have wanted to try something new since they finally curated their own outfits.
It was around that time things started to change fast.
Mira kept urging Zoey to take things more seriously.
Mira kept confronting Rumi more and more about her outfit choices.
In return Rumi, who had never been much of a sharer, closed up even more. Slowly hardening and shutting herself off.
It was only during an intense heatwave that Zoey finally admitted to sharing Mira’s fears.
Eventually fall came around, and things started slowly becoming more normal again. Occasionally Mira and Zoey talked about it again, during some of many bathhouse outings.
It had been the only thing they’d never agreed on. How to handle Rumi’s situation.
Mira would push Rumi, and in return Rumi would push them away. Zoey always in the middle as a mediator.
Mira finally let things go, also realising that what she’d been doing wasn’t helping Rumi.
Zoey shakes it off. It had truly been the hardest year for their friendship. It had been the weakest the honmoon has been under their protection. Even now the notebooks full of her frustrations and fears lay hidden far away in a dark corner of her room.
A groan escapes her. “I can’t believe we’ve been so blind," she mutters to herself. “Celine definitely knows about it.”
She goes through their last few albums, when Rumi out of nowhere decided only to wear high collars. They had found it weird at first, especially her insistence on wearing them. But they’ve grown accustomed to it with time.
“What is she gonna do? Make her turtlenecks higher until she physically can’t hide them anymore?” she wonders quietly.
A knock sounds at the door. “Zo, you ready?” Mira’s tired voice asks.
“Oh, uhm, yeah! Just give me a moment to put on my shoes!” she lies. She quickly scrambles to put back the discarded albums strewn around the floor.
When she’s finally ready, which takes a bit more than a moment, she heads to the living room.
Her friends are there, standing at the counter. Her eyes look on Rumi, who furrows her brows a little. Her look is indecipherable, as she opens her mouth a little as if she’s going to say something, before releasing a small puff of air instead.
“God, Zoey, you look like a disaster,” Mira deadpans.
Zoey gives a laugh, trying not to let them show anything is off. “You know how I get when I’m in the zone.”
“Please don’t tell me you’ve been watching those turtle tiktoks again,” Mira groans.
Zoey forces out a hearty laugh. “I just realised there’s so much I don’t know yet," she says and grins at Rumi, who seems to have eased up a little at least. “Lets go, I can tell you guys some more fun facts!"
“Please just keep them to yourself until noon,” Mira grumbles as she begrudgingly grabs her bag.