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Declaring one’s intent to collab with another K-Pop group is easy when you say it, but in practice, it takes a lot more planning and time to even arrange a video call between idols.
For starters, K/DA has been in hiatus for quite a while, her members spread across the globe in various different time zones compared to Seoul—and each of them are in the middle of some project or event.
Additionally, Taric Shieldguard—definitely not to be confused with the influential German military family of the Crownguards—is currently on vacation somewhere in the Switzerland heading to Campione d’Italia, last K/DA heard from him, and isn’t set to return for a week.
So Bobby gets creative.
He’s been around in the idol business for quite a while, from trying out as an aspiring idol to realizing his talents best lie in the managerial position, so he’s met a great deal of people in all fields and positions. Pacing in his office, he scrolls through his insanely long list of contacts, slowing down in the “M” section.
Back when HUNTR/X was young, only a year in and having just won the Idol Awards for the first time, they were invited to a super exclusive gala for all top musical artists of that year. Bobby was happy to let his girls celebrate while still keeping a steady eye on them, given with Celine’s presence they were more socially behaved, and so he ended up chatting with more people than usual.
One such person was a very tall—everyone’s taller than him, he’s used to it—Italian woman who was a sponsor for some other idol company. She was sharp as a wit, although inexperienced with the idol scene, and Bobby had eagerly given her some tips on what best to look for in a successful idol group.
She gave him her business card when she left, and later after dropping off the girls at their apartment—this was before they had the penthouse—he had looked her name up. Bobby’s eyes had nearly popped out of his head when he realized she was the estranged daughter of the General of the Italian Army. Hearsay and rumors claimed the only reason she was allowed to become a British dual citizen was because of her maybe-does-or-doesn’t-exist informant network.
They’ve chatted occasionally throughout the years, with her eventually switching to become one of HUNTR/X’s sponsors after the girls won the Idol Awards the second time in a row.
He calls her, knowing that they almost always communicate via email, so a call from him is very unexpected. It only rings once before she picks up.
“Hello, Bobby? To what do I owe the pleasure of your call?” Mel Medarda’s smooth voice asks in completely fluent Hanguk-eo, wide awake even though it’s the middle of the night for her in England.
“Hello Mel! Sorry to bother you so late, but I need to ask a favor of you,” he says.
“Of course, Bobby, what do you need?” comes her immediate response, a tinge of worry in her words.
“Um, do you happen to know a way to find someone in Switzterland? They’re heading to Campione d’Italia sometime in the next week,” he asks, and there’s a brief pause on her end. While Switzerland is its own sovereign state, Campione d’Itali is a municipality of the Province of Como in Italy’s Lombardy region, meaning, it’s an official Italy enclave, and therefore under Italian jurisdiction.
“Before I answer, may I know why you want to find this person? And who are they?” she asks carefully.
“Taric Shieldguard, he’s K/DA’s manager, and the girls and I are trying to reach him for a dual comeback of HUNTR/X and K/DA,” Bobby says quickly, and she makes a sound of surprise.
“K/DA? Now there’s a name I haven’t heard in a while, and a dual collab? That will break the charts, as I’m sure you’re aware,” Mel muses.
“Yes, and it’s a top secret clearance right now, only you, me, the girls, and K/DA girls know about it. They’re the ones who suggested it, actually, so we need to rope in Taric, but none of us can get a hold of him,” Bobby explains.
“I see. Say no more, I shall see this done, you need not worry,” she finally says, and Bobby drops in his desk chair, a huge sigh of relief leaving him.
“Oh gosh, thank you so much Mel! You’re a lifesaver!”
“Hmm, yes. You can expect to hear from Taric in two days,” she says confidently.
“Huh? How do you know it will take two days?” he asks, confused, and she chuckles slyly.
“I look forward to what happens next,” she drawls, and hangs up on a perplexed Bobby.
— . HUNTR/DA . —
On the beach suntanning his immaculate, muscled body, Taric Shieldguard opens his eyes behind his expensive shades when he feels the absence of light on his face. Looking up, he lowers his shades appreciatively at the tall woman looking down at him, her sculpted body dazzling to look at even in her business casual suit.
Her sleeves are rolled up, revealing intricate tattoos on dark brown skin that reminds him of metal plate armor, her natural, curly, bleached-blond hair fans around her head like a halo, and she’s got two nicks in her right eyebrow. Overall, she’s smoking hot, and Taric is impressed.
“Hey, babe, what brings you here?” he drawls, stretching his arms behind his head, and she rolls her amber-brown eyes before holding up an iPad, taps it, and turns it around to face him.
“Heya Taric! Wooooah! Look at them guns!”
“Miss Sol?!” Taric swiftly sits up, immediately lowering his arms, snapping upright into a polite sitting position as he faces the tween daughter of K/DA’s co-owner, Aurelion Sol.
“Well duuuuh it’s me! Anyway, you need to get off your butt and skedaddle back to Seoul! NOW! And QUICKLY! Pronto! Presto! Wait—you’re German—schnell!” her high pitched voice shrieks.
“Of course, Miss Sol—um, where in Seoul?” he asks, already gathering his beach things and throwing on his tight tank top.
“BRUHHHH—it’s so obvi?! Like—K/DA headquarters! DUH! NOWNOWNOWNOW!”
Other beach goers are turning to look their way the more Miss Sol screams at him.
“Yes, of course, m’am!” Taric nearly salutes at the girl to get her to stop yelling. The woman smirks at him.
“Good! Because I swear to god if YOU are the reason MY FAVORITE OTPS AND NEW FAVORITE OTPS AREN’T BACK ON STAGE I WILL TELL DADDY TO BLACK LIST YOUR HOT ASS AND DUMP YOUR BODY OFF A CLIFF WHERE THE SEAGULLS WILL PECK AT YOU—FOREVER!”
Taric isn’t sweating because of the sun anymore. Mr. Sol is a very powerful, filthy rich, and very dangerous man with only one weakness—his only daughter. Zoe Sol can do no wrong in her father’s eyes.
“I-I’ll obey, m’am,” he stutters, fear making his spine weak.
“Awww thanks! You’re so nice Taric! I wish Daddy hired more people like you—anyway Rell’s got the deets for you—isn’t she so cool?! Gosh—I should ask Daddy if I can get tattoos? Oh my god I should! Love you lots—kisses! Byeeeee!” Miss Sol rambles, hanging up the video call.
The hot woman—Rell, lowers the iPad, her smirk having grown toothy.
“Miss Sol wants you to read these as soon as possible, preferably before your plane back to Seoul—which has already been arranged, the tickets are in there,” she drawls, handing a thick, sealed manilla envelope.
He takes it silently.
“Oh, and Taric?”
He glances at her warily, her smirk now a smile showing all her teeth.
“If you call me ‘babe’ again, I’ll gut you,” Rell grins, and she stalks away.
— . HUNTR/DA . —
Exactly two days after Bobby called Mel, he gets a call from Taric.
“Taric! Hello! Look, I’ve got a proposal for—”
“Yes I agree! What do you need?!” Taric interrupts him quickly.
“Oh, great! Okay, so we should discuss . . .” Bobby continues on with the logistics, amazed that the powers Mel wields.
— . HUNTR/DA . —
A lot has happened the past two weeks, with Bobby working his manager magic, and them spending time recuperating after Gwi-ma’s almost takeover of Seoul. Rumi and her girls have holed themselves away in the penthouse, allowing themselves to relax in each other and the new Iridescent Honmoon, and to talk.
Rumi spills everything; her childhood hating herself for her patterns, Celine only loving the parts of her that were reminiscent of her other, but never all of her, and how her stress to fix herself led to her losing her voice, and destroying the old Honmoon.
She even, when curled up tight between her girls on the couch, admitted she fled to Celine to end it all, to finally fix the wrong that Rumi caused. Who better to do it than the one who blamed her for killing her mother? They all cried some more then, her girls wrapping in their arms fiercely.
That night, they all swore to have no secrets come between them, to share their faults and fears together, so that they may heal from them together. Mira then admits that if Celine still lived in the tower she’d hunt the woman down to kill her. Rumi was shocked at that response, reactively trying to soothe the dancer’s anger, but when Zoey quietly agrees the idea, Rumi’s thrown off kilter.
Celine may have her faults, but Rumi never wished to see her dead. She hasn’t seen her since the Iridescent Honmoon was created, the woman having cleared out of the tower sometime during the Idol Awards, presumably back to her estate.
The Hunter’s old estate . . . The place where Rumi was born, and where she wanted to die.
She hasn’t reached out to Celine since revealing her patterns to the world, too afraid of what the woman would say. And a small—large—part of Rumi can’t help but be relieved at Celine’s continued absence. She doesn’t even know how to face the woman who raised her, who hated her, but didn’t kill her, who loved her mother more than her.
Bobby had suggested that HUNTR/X could start trying to divest themselves from the Sunlight Sisters, since they were still technically contracted under the company, but it would take a while to got through paperwork and lawyers. Especially if Celine fights it.
But tonight isn’t about her, so Rumi pushes her out of her mind for now.
Rumi and her girls are comfortably waiting in Zoey’s room since she has the largest monitor—for whenever she has time to stream games. Zoey’s in her gaming chair, Rumi’s on one of those large yoga balls, and Mira’s on a stool, one leg propped up while the other is stretched out, waiting for Bobby to send them the Skype link.
Rumi’s still shocked that the K-Pop group she idolizes has a full demon member—and is the very demon Magpie thought would best to train her demon side. She wonders how Evelynn managed to stay off the Hunter’s radar, but remembers Magpie saying that she doesn’t eat souls. Technically? It’s a little confusing.
Rumi keeps fidgeting, tugging on the edge of her sleeveless crop top. She’s taken to wearing them, finally refusing to hide her patterns from her girls, even if she catches them staring at them with wide eyes, blushes on their faces.
She once again sends a silent thanks to Bobby, who worked with her on how to explain her patterns to the public. The official statement released is that she was born with them as purple birthmarks, some strange genetic mutation in her skin, and she had hidden them for fear of public backlash. The patterns certainly didn’t fit South Korea’s beauty standard for a beloved K-Pop idol.
However, with the support of her bandmates, she doesn’t want to hide them anymore, and instead had white tattoos marked over them, which explains the color change. She hasn’t looked to see how the fans reacted, since she hasn’t touched her phone since returning to the penthouse. She’s relied on her girls and Bobby to tell her what the fans thought.
It’s truly confusing and amazing that she’s receiving a massive amount of support and praise for being bold enough to show her patterns, and she’s stunned that her popularity has risen in favor of her because of her patterns. It’s a whole mental reset for her, seeing the patterns she once hated and feared so much be now a source of love and affection.
Mira gently takes Rumi’s hand in hers, stroking the patterns on her wrist carefully, the marks beginning to pulse gold.
“Your marks are beautiful, Rumi,” the dancer says, shifting her body so that she’s facing Rumi more.
“Yeah! And now everyone else sees it too! And if they don’t I’ll skewer them with my shin-kals!” Zoey speaks up, summoning her weapons with one hand.
Warm adoration for her girls makes her heart beat faster.
“Thanks, you two,” Rumi murmurs, squeezing Mira’s hand back.
“But I do think you shouldn’t resort to killing random people if they disagree with you, Zo,” she says, and Mira laughs.
“Well—it wouldn’t be random people! Just the assholes!” Zoey protests, waving her arms, dismissing her shin-kals.
“Sure, Zoey. I’d still join you,” Mira drawls, and they all smile at each other.
Then—a notification from Bobby. Zoey leans forward, and opens the Skype meeting.
— . HUNTR/DA . —
Evelynn waits for the connection to sync, and when it does, she gives a welcoming smile when she sees the Hunters. They look younger than she thought, given all the things they went through that Magpie had explained.
Ahri’s ear twitches, her mate and wife no doubt thinking the same thing.
“Hello, can you hear us? Is the audio working?” Ahri asks, reaching to adjust the volume.
“Hi! Yes! We can hear you!” the maknae, Zoey gives them a thumbs up and a big smile.
“Sup,” the dancer and visual, Mira, says.
“Hello, Evelynn seonbae, Ahri seonbae,” the half-demon, Rumi bows her head respectfully, her patterns pulsing orange.
“Hello girls, it’s so nice to meet you,” Ahri waves. Evelyn tilts her head, observing the half-demon girl intently while half listening to Ahri launch into the details of the collab.
The girl’s not hiding her patterns, which is a good indicator of emotional progress. Evelynn’s own demon form lacks such markings, given that she’s not the same type of demon, but she’s never seen a demon, half-blooded or not, with such iridescent patterns. The girl’s connection to the Honmoon has changed her in ways that’s never been seen before, and Evelynn is very interested in discovering what the girl can do.
“—unfortunately though, given how spread out the other girls are, it probably will take another week, at least, to arrive in Seoul, and it would be separate arrivals now that I think about it,” Ahri says.
“That’s no problem, we can meet you whenever you guys arrive,” Rumi says with a smile, and it’s hard to tell through a screen, but Evelynn’s sure that the half-demon girl glances at her. Ahri’s tail nudges her thigh from where they sit at the kitchen table.
“Rumi hubae,” Evelynn says, and immediately she has everyone’s attention, the girl straightening her already stiffly upright posture. Evelynn wishes she was there in the room to taste her emotions, but she knows how to read body language, and if she’s guessing . . .
“Have you spoken with Celine yet?” she asks, and Rumi gasps like she’s been punched, her patterns flashing red. Mira and Zoey immediately place their hands on her arms, Mira glaring at Evelynn. Rumi’s glowing softens, and she looks appreciatively at her protective soulmates.
That can be both helpful and not, if they interrupt Evelynn’s training.
“N-no, I haven’t,” Rumi says quietly. Evelynn nods slowly.
“I would suggest you do that soon. I can’t help you if you leave the cause of shame unaddressed, do you understand?” Evelynn says, gentle as she can, but firm. Not even she can influence a soul to get rid of their shame if they still hold on to it, and besides, she feeds off shame, she’s better equipped to amplify it than negate it.
Magpie is going to owe her such a big favor, but she always enjoys a challenge.
Rumi stares at her through the screen, then slowly nods, her patterns briefly flickering blue.
“Okay, I will, seonsaengnim,” she says, and Evelynn nods, satisfied. Ahri grins at the Hunters.
“Oh, and one more important thing, K/DA’s theme revolves around being ‘non-human’ and accepting one’s own differences. This also allows us, specifically Eve, Kai’sa, and me to be more open appearance-wise when it comes to our own natures as a demon, gumiho, and a Voidling-host respectively. I was thinking that given your new ‘demon acceptance’ era, we could capitalize on that,” Ahri says, and the Hunters glance at each other, interested.
“That could definitely work,” Mira muses.
“Oooh! What about branching out into other genres?!” Zoey squeals.
“I’m sure you and Akali will come up with amazing lyrics,” Ahri says, and the maknae blushes.
“Speaking of,” Evelynn says, glancing at her phone.
“She and Sera are going to be the first ones to arrive in a couple days,” she informs the Hunters, carefully observing Rumi’s patterns pulse gold as the girl watches her soulmates excitedly talk more with Ahri about potential song ideas.
Evelynn’s going to have to figure out what those colors mean, although she already has a few guesses.
— . HUNTR/DA . —
“Are you sure you want to go alone? We could come with you,” Rumi asks, her patterns glowing orange. Zoey puts on her yellow bucket hat, and turns to give her—other part of her soul? One of two girls she loves with all her heart? The girl she’d do anything for?—gives Rumi a tight hug, the patterns shifting gold.
“Or Bobby could pick them up after his meetings,” Mira points out, shoulder to shoulder with Rumi, her hands in the pockets of her baggy dance pants. Where their skin touches Rumi’s patterns stay a lazy gold.
“It’s okay, I got this! And besides, Bobby’s super busy with Taric, and I know you two have another call with Ahri, so I can do it! And if anyone messes with me, I’ve got these!” Zoey says, summoning her shin-kals. She and Mira share a look when Rumi looks down, troubled, a wave of orange flowing across her patterns.
What Zoey doesn’t say is that, technically, only Rumi was needed for the call, HUNTR/X leader to K/DA leader, but they didn’t want to leave her alone, so Mira silently opted to stay. Rumi takes a deep breath, trying to settle her nerves.
“Okay, just, be safe, okay?” Rumi asks softly, and Zoey presses her head against her leader’s chest, listening to the beating of her strong heart.
“Absolutely, unnie!” Zoey grins, and slowly steps out of Rumi’s hold.
“I’ll be back before you know it!” she says as she skips to the elevator.
“Have fun,” Mira says dryly.
“I will!” Zoey waves excitedly as the elevator doors close.
— . HUNTR/DA . —
Akali and Sera disembark the plane into the Incheon International Airport, feeling a sense of happy nostalgia being back in Seoul. Sera yawns, having traveled longer than Akali to arrive here.
She was the furthest from the rest of K/DA all the way in Los Angeles, California, with Kai’sa being second in Toronto, Canada, but that’s closer to the United States’ east coast. As soon as Ahri had texted the news about a comeback in their chat, confirming it was going to be in Seoul, Sera had booked a connecting flight that stopped in Shang Hai where Akali was at the time.
Thankfully, the flight over the Huang Hai to Seoul was only two hours, so they weren’t in the air for a long time. Akali can’t stand flying in planes, she’s a nervous rider, being trapped in a pressurized metal can with no control over how she flies. She much rather prefers flying utilizing her own cloud-hymn magic in her Ryūjin form, and Sera knows this.
Another reason why she insisted on flying with Akali.
Sera’s attentiveness to all of their needs never fails to warm Akali’s heart, the songstress’s affection and love given so freely to Akali and their other mates, that it heals the cracks in her soul left by her past.
“This is so exciting!” Sera whispers behind her face mask, her very recognizable hair tucked in a low bun at the base of her neck, a straw hat covering her head. She’s wearing an oversized pink cardigan with a pleated blue skirt, cute sandals, and her nails are painted cotton candy colors.
Akali nods at her, grinning behind her own face mask. She’s got her signature cap pulled low over her face, her hood up, and wearing all black from her jacket to her trousers, except for her beloved, spray-paint-stained sneakers.
“Hell yeah,” she says, shouldering both her nondescript backpack and Sera’s baby pink and blue satchel adorned with gems and other glittery things. Waiting in line for customs, Akali keeps close to Sera, making sure no one looks at them too closely. K/DA has been in haitus for so long, but they’re still widely popular around the world, and you never know when a die-hard superfan could recognize them.
Eve and Ahri had greatly expressed the need to be discreet for this comeback.
“I just let the others know we arrived,” Sera says, showing Akali their group chat.
The IT Girls
Foxy: let us know when you arrive!
Songbird: 👍🏼👍🏼👍🏼
Deery: I'm wrapping up here in a few days
Speed3mon: no worries bokkie
—
Songbird: we arrived! in customs line!
Foxy: great!
Speed3mon: wonderful, darlings
Foxy: zoey's cute, you'll definitely get along
Speed3mon: if you need anything you can ask magpie too
Songbird: 👍🏼🫡
Akali grins, and checks her phone too for her other chat.
2RU-DMG BABBBBYYYY
4Tiks: have a safe flight! txt us when u arrive!
Emprezz: knock em dead babe 💅🏻
Gungurl: Please make sure you recognize the pickup before you get into any car! This is important!
Un4GvN: . . . 🫵🏼🫶🏼🚶♀️☺️🇰🇷
4Tiks: lol Yas luv the way u tx 😂
Un4GvN: . . . 🙂↕️
Akali smiles, quickly replying.
GOAT: ive arrived! going through customs with sera, we're meeting zoey, dont worry @gungurl
GOAT: we in disguise!
Akali nudges Sera, the songstress holding up two fingers as Akali takes a quick selfie, sending it. In her peripheral, she notices a couple people nearby glance their way. She subtly angles her body away from them, giving them more of a view of her shoulder, shielding Sera from their gaze.
Thank goodness it’s their turn at the customs desk.
It’s a quick affair to grab their suitcases from baggage claim, now, where to find this Zoey?
— . HUNTR/DA . —
Zoey waits nervously outside the doors where exiting passengers come through, holding a sign reading “Magpie”. She ignores the strange looks people passing by give her sign, eager to spot Akali and Sera. Thankfully, people here are more concerned with leaving the airport to look too closely at her.
She really should have brought a face mask—but she was too distracted by her hot soulmates!
The doors open again, a flood of people coming out, and she raises her sign a higher. Scanning the crowd, she locks in on a very pink girl gesturing to her companion at Zoey, the pair making a beeline toward her.
Now that they’re closer, Zoey can tell the pink girl is her height, while the other one is a tad shorter than Rumi.
“Sup, Magpie,” the Akali says, a smile in her voice, and Zoey gasps, looking up at her in awe. She’s got a poster of the rapper, aka the Rouge, in her room where the Sunlight Sisters used to reside—she couldn’t stand seeing Celine’s face after hearing about Rumi’s sad childhood.
“Oh my gosh oh my gosh! You’re Akali!” Zoey gasps, keeping her voice low.
“And you’re Seraphine! I’ve listened to your covers!” she turns to the songstress. Even though they’re the same age, Seraphine seems like she’s way more experienced than her in Zoey’s eyes.
“Thank you, I have listened to your rap battles a lot too!” Seraphine grins, her Hanguk-eo slightly halting and more on the formal side.
“Hey, if you want, I can speak English too,” Zoey suggests, and Seraphine brightens.
“Wait really?—Oh, though I should practice my Hanguk-eo more,” Seraphine sighs, and Akali draps an arm around the songstress’s shoulders.
“Nah it’s all good, you’ll have plenty of time to practice with the others, it’s alright with me,” Akali says, and Seraphine beams up at her.
“Okay then! Now, what’s the itinerary?” she asks, and Zoey grins at her.
“We head back to the penthouse, don’t worry about the ride, Bobby got us a private driver! We use them all the time since Mira is the only one with a license, since we all three couldn’t fit on my moped, or longboard,” Zoey explains as she leads the pair out the airport, all of them making sure to walk quickly.
“Penthouse?” Seraphine asks.
“Yeah! We’ve got the best view of all of Seoul! Tallest building so far! It also doubles as really good way to check on the Honmoon,” Zoey says as they climb into the car, the driver placing their luggage in the trunk.
“Dude, we should have used my bike! I’m pretty sure it’s back at the house,” Akali sighs fondly, the driver getting back into the car, pulling away from the curb.
“Oh the one in your More music video?!” Zoey gasps, starry eyed. She’s always imagined herself riding one back in Burbank, but never found the courage to do so, nor the funds. And she frankly didn’t even have the time to ride own in South Korea, never mind that she probably wouldn’t be allowed given her idol status as the “bubbly” one. Since Akali was the “bad girl” of her group, she could get away with it.
“Yup! Eve helped me put the wrap on my baby for that video,” Akali grins.
“Akali! You should take Zoey for a ride!” Seraphine giggles mischievously. Zoey’s jaw drops, and she splutters, waving her hands wildly.
“Oh I couldn’t! I wouldn’t want to impose that on you!” she says weakly, but Akali and Seraphine are grinning at each other.
“You wouldn’t, promise! Besides, haven’t you always wanted to try?” Seraphine leans in, her blue eyes sparkling so prettily. Zoey doesn’t want to disappoint her, or Akali, so she smiles. She has always wanted to . . .
“Okay, I’m sure we can find time to do it—”
“What about now? We make a pitstop at the house, and follow the car back?” Akali’s grin is infectious, and Zoey finds herself being pulled into their energetic orbit.
“Bike ride!” Seraphine claps happily, and Zoey smiles at that too.
“Okay, lemme just text the girls, let them know we’re making a pitstop,” she says, pulling out her phone.
— . HUNTR/DA . —
Rumi immediately looks at her phone when a text from Zoey comes in, shutting up mid-sentence.
“Rumi?” Ahri asks, confused.
Mira leans over Rumi’s shoulder, both of them frowning in confusion at the words.
“Is Akali a safe driver?” Rumi asks, and Ahri blinks, one ear flicking.
“Yes? Why?” she asks curiously.
“It seems Akali is taking the Zoey and Seraphine out on a bike ride?” Mira says, narrowing her eyes at the text.
Rumi can’t help but picture Zoey on the back of a bike, no protection if she falls, with a driver Rumi hasn’t personally cleared to not be an endangerment to her girl.
“Oh really? Then you’ve got nothing to worry about, Akali is always a safe driver when she’s got passengers,” Ahri explains in a relaxed tone. Rumi sighs, running her hands over her braid, her patterns glowing a light orange. If Ahri says Akali is okay, then Rumi is inclined to believe her.
After all, Ahri is the leader of K/DA, she knows her members well, and Rumi trusts her judgement.
— . HUNTR/DA . —
Zoey’s clinging to Akali’s waist, whooping as the night lights of Seoul blurs around her, her helmet blasting some fire rap songs in her ears. The K/DA house—mansion—had spare helmets, and Akali was very diligent in getting two that fit both Zoey and Seraphine.
Speaking of, the songstress is behind Zoey, holding onto her while somehow sitting daintily side-saddle on the very back of the ducati’s second seat. In the distance, the sound of sirens calls, and Akali laughs.
“We’ve lost them!” Seraphine cheers in the shared helmet comms. Zoey looks up, seeing the helicopter falling behind them in the sky.
“Fuck yeah!” Zoey giggles, adrenaline pumping through her.
“Turn incoming girls!” Akali warns, and Zoey and Seraphine scream in delight as the ducati whips around the corner, making their way closer to the HUNTR/X tower garage.
— . HUNTR/DA . —
Rumi’s got a death grip on Mira’s hand—not that her girl cares—both of them glued to the news channel of the failed police chase, the motorcyclist and the two passengers escaping into the night.
Zoey is on that bike—her Zoey is on that damn bike!
A rumbling growl ripples out of her, her patterns pulsing a mix of orange, purple and black. Her girl is in danger!
“She’s one minute out,” Mira says stiffly, now staring at FindMy, watching Zoey’s icon zoom down the streets.
“Come on,” Rumi growls again, at first dragging a stumbling Mira to the elevator, before she decides that the lift is too slow. Her mind is zeroed in on Zoey’s safety, and her demon instincts respond.
“Wait—Rumi—!”
They both disappear in a burst of pink smoke—
—reappearing in the HUNTR/X tower garage just as Zoey in question jumps off the bike, landing on wobbly legs—is she in pain?!
Rumi’s got her hands on her girl before she realizes it, scooping her up in a bridal carry, nose buried in Zoey’s neck, breathing in lungfuls of her calming scent.
“Rumi! Mira! Did you see me?! That was so cool! We were all zoooom and brrrrrrr!” Zoey laughs, wrapping her arms around Rumi’s neck, the patterns immediately turning gold. Her girl isn’t hurt, thank god. The beginnings of a purr starts in Rumi’s chest, but it lowers when she smells other foreign scents clinging to her girl.
Ozone and fresh water on her front, and sweet candy on her back. Rumi hates it, nipping Zoey’s neck in frustration that her and Mira’s scents are dull in comparison. Zoey gasps, going still and silent in her hold.
“Are you okay?” Mira asks, leaning over Rumi’s shoulder, looking down at Zoey softly. Zoey grins up at her, and nods.
“Good. You two go up first, I’ll bring the other two myself,” Mira says firmly, giving Rumi a light push when she hesitates to leave her alone. Zoey yawning solidifies Rumi’s choice, and she pulls Mira in to nuzzle her cheek, leaving her scent there, before teleporting back to her bedroom.
Mira watches the other parts of her soul disappear, and then snaps her gaze over to Akali and Seraphine—their helmets off—and raises an arched brow at the pair.
“Nice bike,” she says, and Akali rubs the back of her neck.
“Thanks?”
“Would be a shame if it was impounded,” Mira says coldly, and Akali blanches.
“Keys,” Mira orders, holding her hand out, glaring at the rogue when she hesitates. She doesn’t give any fucks that Akali’s older than her and society would dictate she be polite to her, not after the stunt she as the driver just pulled.
“Need I remind you, that you are currently wanted by the police?” she growls, and Akali silently hands the keys over. Gripping them tight, a dark satisfaction curls in Mira’s chest that she’s got the height to loom over the pair, scowling down at them.
“If you ever pull this shit again, if you endanger our girl again, you won’t have to worry about Rumi going demon on you, I’ll ruin you myself,” she snarls, summoning her gok-do, cracking the cement when she slams the blade down. She also doesn’t care that the Honmoon seems to disapprove of her threatening the nonviolent non-demons, she’s getting her point across.
“Understood?” Mira hisses, and the pair nod quickly. Breathing harshly, she dismisses her gok-do, then pivots on her heel, not waiting to see if they catch up.
“Oh, and you should answer Ahri’s texts,” she smirks devilishly when she hears the pair scramble to follow her.
— . HUNTR/DA . —
Rumi’s been hovering, she’s dimly aware of this, but she isn’t letting Zoey out of her sight, not after the whole bike fiasco. Both Akali and Seraphine got a scathing rant from Ahri—Akali for being reckless and Seraphine for enabling—and a lot of side eyes from Rumi and Mira. They’ve settled into the guest suite on the floor below the penthouse, and Rumi’s pleased that they aren’t in her immediate territory.
Wait, since when did she start calling the penthouse her territory?
She pushes the thought out of her head, snuggling tighter against Zoey on the couch, her girl settled in her lap. Rumi’s got her arms around her girl’s waist, both of them watching turtle videos. Well, Zoey is, while Rumi half is. She’s more focused on how warm Zoey is, and how she’s not on that damn bike.
Mira’s moving around behind them, preparing to collect Kai’sa, and Rumi and Zoey are staying up past their usual bedtime to wait for her eventual return.
“Awwwww! Look at the baby squirts!” Zoey coos, pointing at the clutch of baby turtles hatching.
“Cute,” Rumi purrs, looking at Zoey, who rests her head on Rumi’s shoulder—Rumi’s eyes dart down to the exposed neck, her teeth aching all of a sudden.
“Alright, I’m headed out, don’t get into trouble,” Mira says, walking over to press a kiss against Zoey’s forehead, and then another to Rumi’s right over a pattern on her jaw. She and Zoey have been doing that more, casual kisses, especially on Rumi’s marks, but they haven’t gone further.
Rumi sometimes thinks she wants to them to, but doesn’t know how to express that.
“Stay safe,” she says—pleads—instead, reaching to touch Mira’s face. She can’t bear the thought of Mira getting injured—or worse—when she’s away from Rumi. Mira smiles knowingly at her, and nods, leaning into her touch before stepping away.
“I’ll be back soon, and I’m driving so we won’t have a repeat of before,” she drawls, gently stroking Zoey’s hair.
“Heyyyy, that was just one time, and it was fine!” Zoey whines, pouting. Her girl’s breathy voice right in her ear sends shivers down Rumi’s spine, her patterns flushing a bright pink, and the image of her clawed demon hand reaching up to wrap around Zoey’s neck flashes before her eyes.
Shaking herself a little, her fingers twitch around Zoey’s waist, and Rumi glances at Mira. The dancer is looking at her intensely, a small smirk tugging at the corner of her lips.
“I won’t be long,” she says, and quietly leaves.
— . HUNTR/DA . —
As Mira descends in the elevator to drive to the airport, Seraphine’s deep asleep, dreaming as Akali spoons her . . .
She’s walking hand in hand with a woman, someone she knows and loves.
They may have different bodies, but they exist together as two parts of a larger whole.
They are always that—whole.
—Souls clashing against each other with shrieking discord—
She’s pressing in, her face so close that she can count every lash that frames gentle brown eyes.
There’s but one breath between them, one life, and lips graze against each other.
The reflection of bodies gazing and bonding to each other, and that’s enough for her.
That should be enough.
That should always be enough.
—Sorrow and betrayal piercing their hearts at the same time—
She’s drifting away from her, from their shared soul.
She’s found another dance partner.
She’s left her alone.
—She’s got a hand around her heart, they’re tied forever now—
They used to be a them. They were of one soul, so why is she going?
Is there no more them if she choses him?
Who is she without her? Who is she with him?
—She’s tearing her own soul in twain, she’s doing this—
She is not enough.
She wishes she was.
She wishes with all her soul that she choose her, that she chose to stay.
She wishes she wasn’t so angry.
Angry at the world, angry at the very thing tying her soul to her still, and angry at the girl.
—She doesn’t want to promise anything, she hates that he tore them apart—
She prays to be released from her duty.
—Free me, I beg of you, from this life, this retched oath, free me from your torment!—
—Remove your hand from my heart, let me grieve without feeling your body against mine!—
—Shall I sever the chain that anchors me to you?!—
—My only love, please, just let me go, so I can let you go . . .
Seraphine’s always had peculiar dreams, and usually she doesn’t pay much attention to them, but sometimes, she has to. She’s dreamed about things happening in another part of the world just as it occurs, she’s dreamed through animal’s eyes, and sometimes, she dreams of a soul’s past, and those dreams are rarely simple.
And that was when the old Honmoon covered the world, its’s cold lines always on the edge of unattainable gold.
Now, with the new one? It’s like there’s a whole new world Seraphine can hear with barely a brush of her fingers against the iridescent lines, especially now that she’s at the epicenter of the Honmoon. The souls in the old Honmoon feel different, some are there, some aren’t, but some came back, and some never left.
There’s freedom in that, to choose what you want to be.
And this dream, this woman’s soul, weighed down by terrible grief and sadness, just who is she? What did she do to her love? Why was she so scared to be alone if she shared another’s soul? Could she not see she was still loved?
“Celine?” the name comes to her just then, and Seraphine hears a faint strum of soft, gentle notes of a whisper in her mind before the music goes quiet.
“Sssshhhuh, Ser-bear,” Akali mumbles sleepily, and Seraphine listens, closing her eyes once more.
— . HUNTR/DA . —
It seems Kai’sa’s late coming out, maybe she’s stuck in security?
Mira drums her fingers against the steering wheel to the beat of one of their songs, checking again that the “Magpie” sign is propped up on the inside of the windshield. Watching people come out of the airport, she adjusts her glasses, content to wait in silence.
Her thoughts wander, eventually settling on her.
Celine.
Fury lances through her when she imagines the older woman’s face. God, she wants to go over to her estate and beat the shit out of her for what she did to Rumi, what she forced Rumi to be.
How could she?
How dare she?
Mira’s ninety percent certain that Celine is the one who killed Ryu Mi-yeong. Putting aside Celine’s poor treatment of Rumi when they were trainees, Magpie’s insistence on calling her the “guilty Hunter”, and now Evelynn’s cryptic suggestion to address “the cause of shame”? The facts just add up.
Not to mention, who would even want to kill her? A demon? If what Magpie says is true, then Mi-yeong’s demon lover did truly love her, and while Mira distrusts—read: hates—Jinu, he did sacrifice himself for Rumi. He must have held true affection for her leader if he was willing to give his soul to her just after he got it back.
Celine betrayed her fellow Hunters when she killed Mi-yeong. That’s got to be what happend. Mira shudders, her thoughts immediately turning to the night she and Zoey found out about Rumi’s patterns.
Mira was in Hunter mode then, terrified that the Saja Boys were ganging up on Rumi, all alone on stage surrounded by thousands of fans, when they saw doubles of themselves. They saw a feral looking Rumi with pulsing patterns, and Mira first thought that Rumi had been replaced by a demon.
So when “Rumi” stumbled down the stairs, she didn’t know if it was really her, or a demon to trick them again. If it was the latter, then Mira would have slayed the disgusting thing for impersonating her leader, the other part of her soul, and search endlessly until she and Zoey had her back in their arms.
But it was their Rumi, the Rumi she loved so much, who led them, who fought the hardest to keep them safe, who lied to them the entire time they knew her. Who not so long ago, looked Mira directly in the eyes, and promised she wasn’t hiding anything.
Mira didn’t know what to do, she was in shock, and when Rumi had made the Honmoon shake with a pulse of magenta, her first thought was of Zoey. What if Rumi lost control? She knew that their maknae didn’t have it in her to attack Rumi, not seriously at least, and even then, Mira doubts that Zoey would be able to live with herself if she harmed Rumi.
So she relied on her training, taking a half step in front of Zoey, angling her gok-do between their maknae and leader.
Mira rubs her face, regretting the moment she raised her gok-do, its blade leveled low, but still raised nonetheless. When Rumi fled, it was like a trigger went off in Mira’s head, all the fight left her body, her gok-do vanishing. The sight of her leader’s purple braid vanishing into the darkness was the moment she realized her family—the one she thought was truly hers—was broken, already fallen apart.
Mira had gone on autopilot, self preservation instincts long since subdued—never buried completely—triggered, and she knew she had to protect herself. So she lashed out the best way she knew how, to save her already breaking heart from shattering. She remembers hearing her own voice in her head, but it wasn’t really hers.
She listened to the demons, and it almost cost her the lives of her girls.
Mira jolts when someone softly knocks on her window. Leaning down, Kai’sa lowers her face mask, waving. She gets out of the car, and walking around to the meet the other dancer in at the trunk. Standing next to Kai’sa, Mira feels short for once in her life next to the tallest woman she’s ever seen.
“Sup, your stuff can go in the trunk,” Mira says, and Kai’sa smiles at her.
“Hello! It’s nice to finally meet you,” she says in perfect Hanguk-eo, both of them getting into the car, starting it.
“Yeah, you too,” Mira eyes the taller dancer’s floating Void-pod-things flatten impossibly thin and slide down the back of Kai’sa’s shirt.
“I’m sorry for my delay, as I was walking through, I saw a store selling some peaches, and so I got some as a house gift for you, and the rest of HUNTR/X,” Kai’sa smiles, holding up a neatly wrapped bag.
“Oh, thanks! Zoey will love these,” Mira smiles back, and starts up the car.
“By the way, I wanted to ask you about choreography for your song How It’s Done, did you really fly in from the sky as your entrance?” the other dancer asks, genuinely interested.
“Sure did, after our plane got wrecked,” Mira smirks, already getting the feeling that she and Kai’sa are going to hit it off splendidly.
— . HUNTR/DA . —
“Oh my gosh! They float?! They’re so cute!” Zoey runs circles around a confused, but happy-to-be-there Kai’sa. Akali and Seraphine lean against the kitchen island, having been finally allowed in the penthouse after Kai’sa sincere promises that they were sorry convinced Rumi and her girls.
“Voidy even chirps,” Akali adds, munching on some chips that Bobby must have provided for her.
Chirp-chirp! the pods echo, their fronts blinking purple too.
“Do you want to touch them?” Kai’sa offers, holding out an arm, and Zoey gasps with delight.
“Is it like armor?” Mira asks, she and Zoey leaning close to Kai’sa’s arm, watching her Void carapace slides over her flesh like a second-skin, the sound like gently tumbling glass.
“It’s warm!” Zoey exclaims.
“It is,” Mira muses, poking the crystal-hard “skin”.
Rumi watches her girls fondly, her demon instincts still very confused about the tall dancer. On one hand, she smells a normal human, like peaches and arugula, but she also carries the scent of something distinctly other, and not the acidic scent of demon. That other bit is making her on edge, even thought Rumi actively can tell Kai’sa is a very sweet person.
She bites into a peach, pleased with the gift. It satisfies something in her, probably her demon side, to be given an offering in return for safe passage within her territory. Better than a damn bike scare, Rumi glances at Akali darkly.
“Rumi! Come look! It’s got Derpy’s eyes!” Zoey shrieks, yanking at Kai’sa’s arm to show Rumi, forgetting that the tall dancer is also very attached to her arm. Rumi blinks, staring at the bulging eye looking around on the second-skin.
It weirdly does remind her of her Oppa’s eyes.
Mira glances at her, both of them a little freaked out about the numerous eyes.
— . HUNTR/DA . —
“Man, I never wanna leave this couch,” Akali groans, stretching her limbs out to sink into the white cushions.
“So soft,” Seraphine sighs, readjusting herself as she rests her head in the Kai’sa’s lap.
“It’s definitely larger than our couch,” the Voidling-host comments.
“Dude, isn’t it great?” Mira smirks, leaning back with her legs spread in her usual sitting position.
“Couch time is sacred,” Zoey agrees a she makes herself comfortable on Mira and Rumi’s laps. Rumi’s leaning against Mira, idly stroking Zoey’s hair, her patterns swirling a lazy gold.
“Bro, can we like buy this off you?” Akali asks, looking at HUNTR/X.
“What?! No way!” Zoey shoots upright.
“Over my dead body,” Mira drawls.
“Respectfully, no,” Rumi growls, a wave of green flashing across her patterns, but Akali just smirks, while her bandmates sigh.
“How about a duel? Winner takes the couch!” she grins toothily. Mira and Rumi exchange a glance, and Mira carefully repositions Zoey more onto Rumi.
“You’re on, you little skink!” she jeers, standing up.
“Um, maybe we should not—” Kai’sa begins to say.
“Nah! You’re on, ya big orangutan!” Akali leaps up, unfazed by Mira’s fierce scowl.
“Training room, now,” Mira growls, marching off, Akali hot on her heels.
“Oh my gosh! Let’s watch Mira beat her ass!” Zoey cheers, Rumi smiling with pride, leaping up to follow the dancer.
“Seriously, all of this over a couch? We could just ask where they got it from?” Kai’sa says as she and Seraphine hurry after everyone.
“We have got a lot of spirited people in one space, so it is better that we figure out the, um, pecking order, now than later when Ahri and Eve arrive,” the songstress explains.
“. . . We don’t have a training room,” Kai’sa pouts as they run down the emergency stairwell down two floors, hearing the echoes of their companions far ahead of them. They couldn’t be bothered to take the elevator it seems.
“Kai, they are quite very much demon hunters. We do not need a training room,” Seraphine laughs playfully. Following the noise of metal clashing against metal, they enter a hallway where they quickly locate the training room. In the middle of the space, Mira and Akali are a whirlwind of swinging gok-do and slashing kama—the oversized one.
“Get her, Mira!” Zoey calls, jumping up and down as the pair clash, Honmoon steel skidding against blessed steel. Rumi’s standing with her arms crossed, attentively watching.
“You got this babe!” Seraphine shouts, and Kai’sa looks at her, startled. The songstress just grins up at her cheekily.
“I’m just giving her some encouragement,” she grins.
“You’re such an instigator,” Kai’sa sighs, but there’s a small grin that tugs at her lips.
“If you win I’ll give let you have some of my turtle cookies!” Zoey says, giving Seraphine a sharp look. From what little time she’s known the maknae, no one—absolutely no one—are allowed to eat her treasured turtle-shaped sugar cookies.
In a burst of speed Mira spins her gok-do around her waist, nearly taking off Akali’s head if she didn’t dodge. The training room floor is starting to become marked with deep slashes, cutting through the wood.
“Oi! Watch the hair!” the rouge snarls.
“Oh please, you don’t have that much anyway!” Mira barks. Seraphine gives Zoey a sly glance, making sure to catch the makenae’s eye.
“Kali! If you win, I’ll ride you in your Ryūjin form!” Seraphine says clearly, and everyone whips around to stare at her, even Akali and Mira briefly pausing at the raunchy innuendo. Both Rumi and Zoey flush, Mira looks startled, Akali’s rebooting, and Kai’sa’s got her head in her hands. Seraphine smiles sweetly, clasping her hands behind her back and rocking on her heels.
“Well? Give us a show,” she says, and Akali and Mira stare at each other, and then Akali’s hooking onto Mira’s gok-do with her kama, and lashes out with a spinning roundhouse kick. Mira stumbles back—dismissing her gok-do to resummon it right in time to block the attack.
Rumi can’t help but think on Seraphine’s words, particularly the “ride” part. She watches Mira fight, entranced, amazed, a little worried for her safety, and very, very turned on. Her patterns are an uneven mix of pale orange and predominant purple. God, she imagines herself riding Mira—does she even have toys—okay, don’t think about that here!
She glances at Zoey, whose pretty pink blush makes her freckles stand out like a dusting of stars across her face. Her girl’s got a slight shine of perspiration that makes her skin glisten, and with her black hair in her signature buns, Rumi feels the sudden urge to clamp her jaws on the unblemished back of the neck.
Her hand—shit, it’s already shifted?—is already resting on Zoey’s shoulder blades before she realizes what she’s doing. Zoey glances up at her with wide eyes, and Rumi swears her pupils are dilating.
“Seraphine, did you really have to say that?” Kai’sa whines, and the songstress giggles, taking out her phone to film the two furiously fighting to force the other to yield. The stakes have been raised, and it’s hot watching Akali’s body move so fluidly.
“Hmhm, incentive, besides, if she’s impressive enough, I’ll still let her rail me later,” she sighs dreamily, looking over to where Voidy’s creeping down Kai’sa’s arm, one eye forming to stare at Seraphine hungrily.
“Aww, you can join too,” she coos, laughing when Kai’sa blushes.
The duel takes a turn, and Mira and Akali are locked in place, struggling against each other while trying to keep the other close and in range. Mira’s got the Honmoon blade of her gok-do aimed at Akali’s throat, but the tip of Akali’s kama is close to stabbing her in the stomach.
A stalemate.
“It’s a tie! Great!” Kai’sa claps, drawing the fighter’s attention to her. Both are breathing hard, sweating from their fierce ordeal.
“I suppose this means the couch stays where it is, good wager!” Seraphine smiles at Zoey, the makenae and Rumi jolting as if they were caught doing something.
“O-oh! Yeah! The couch, yup!” she squeaks.
“You’re good with that,” Mira grunts, pulling away from Akali, helping her up as both of them dismiss their weapons.
“You’re not too bad yourself,” Akali grins, and Mira huffs, but a smirk graces her face.
“I’d still win if we were doing this for real,” the dancer drawls, flicking her long pink hair over her shoulder. Akali snarls mockingly, but there’s no real menace in it.
“Yeah right, next time you’ll be flat on your ass,” she boasts, and Mira rolls her eyes, shoving the Ryūjin host’s shoulder, both them heading back to their respective bandmates.
“Oh my gosh, Mira! That was so cool! You’ll get her next time!” Zoey jumps at Mira, holding onto her arm.
“You’re beautiful when you fight,” Rumi says earnestly, and that’s what makes Mira blush. She hums, pleased, with herself.
“So, no cookies for me?” Mira drawls, and Zoey giggles.
“Nope!”
On the other side, Akali’s stretching her arms, a satisfied smirk on her face.
“You really like my Ryūjin form, huh?”
“Of course I do, but alas, no rides today,” she laughs when Akali’s smirk drops into shock.
“But—wait, Sera! You said—!”
“Hm, what did I say? Oh well, I’m hungry, I could always eat,” Seraphine laughs evilly as she skips out of the training room, leaving behind a frazzled Akali and a still flustered Kai’sa.
— . HUNTR/DA . —
That night, Rumi wakes up from her cuddle session with her girls to the muffled sounds of moans coming the floor beneath her. Her phone buzzes, and she reaches over Mira wrapped around her middle to pick it up. It’s Evelynn.
Demon Dojang
Queen: hello darling, it's evelynn
Queen: you're probably waking up because of what my mates are getting up to
Queen: if there's one thing you should get used to is blocking other's lust from effecting your demon side, because sera is a little devil brat who likes getting her way, and unfortunately kai and kali can never tell her no
Queen: i give you permission to spritz her with water if she gets too much
Queen: anywho, best solution is to ignore it, frame it in your head that "it's not your lust," so why should it affect you? or alternatively u can fuck your mates to get it out of your system
Queen: your call, hubae 😏
Princess: . . .
Princess: . . . thank you for the advice, seonsaengnim . . .
Rumi’s cheeks feel hot, and she gently flops back down, distinctly aware of the touches of her girls on her. Her mates? They’re the other parts of her soul, but does that make them her mates? What even does that mean? Mates like soulmates? Or—or like National Geographic mating mates?
That . . . Actually would explain her urges to bite them . . .
Fuck, she’s never going to get any sleep. What else to think about . . .
— . HUNTR/DA . —
Rumi’s made a promise, and she won’t break it.
She’s running on four hours of rest, barely closing her eyes before Mira’s waking her up, asking about what coffee she wants. Instead, her sleep-addled brain blurted that she wanted to see Celine today.
So here she is, staring at the entrance of the old Hunter’s estate through the car window, unmoving. Two sets of hands touch her shoulder, and she looks to see her girls watching her with concerned and supportive expressions. Her orange patterns slowly transition into blue.
“If you need anything, just give us a signal,” Zoey says urgently.
“Don’t let her say shit to you, you deserve answers, not insults,” Mira adds, and Rumi feels her eyes well up with unshed tears at their love.
“I love you girls,” she says, and they all lean in for a hug. The angle is weird since they’re all sitting, but Rumi can’t care less.
“Right, here goes nothing,” she murmurs, and gets out of the car. Walking up to the front gates, she hesitates to enter the combination in the key code. What if it was changed? Should she scale the walls?
Rumi enters in date four days after her birthday.
Bzzzzt!
The old wooden doors pull back on rusty hinges, the creaking sound specially designed to alert any inhabitants of a new arrival. Rumi takes a deep breath, and walks in, the doors closing behind her after a minute.
— . HUNTR/DA . —
Rumi doesn’t bother entering the estate house. Instead, she walks to the open field overlooked by the large tree where she trained in various weapons and hyeongs in her youth. Where the gravestone of her mother rests in the shadow of the large tree’s branches.
As Rumi silently treads closer, in her minds eye, memories of her time being knocked to the ground during training appear like phantoms around her. Was she really that tiny? Was she really that bruised and exhausted, so desperate for acceptance that she pushed through it?
She remembers her Oppas like a breath of fresh air; riding on Tiger’s back, laughing as he would leap into the air, listening to Magpie correct her form.
She looks up into the fading sunset, the reds, oranges, and yellows lighting up the sky like fire. She recalls the day when Celine chased away her Oppas, calling upon the old Honmoon itself to attack.
Rumi stops in front of her mother’s gravestone, and looks at her patterned hands, the pale marks flickering blue and orange intermittently. Was this what her mother imagined when she had her? Did she know what Rumi would look like? Did she care?
류
미
영
의
묘
Ryu Mi-yeong’s grave.
Right here, almost two meters beneath her feet, lay the bones of her mother, a woman she’s never known, and yet has defined Rumi’s entire life with her absence. She crouches down, reaching to touch the engraved name, but hesitates.
The gravestone is one the best kept things that Celine has ever cared for as long as Rumi can remember. Fresh incense sticks in a clean cup gently smoke, spreading the scent of cherry blossoms. Three new apples are stacked on a pristine porcelain dish, and there’s a bar of fresh cheese. Rumi’s never understood the cheese, perhaps her mother liked it?
But no portrait.
If her mother’s face wasn’t plastered in every Sunlight Sister poster, she wouldn’t even know what her mother looked like.
“Hi, mom,” Rumi whispers, her voice cracking, sitting down, a gentle breeze swirling around her, playing with the stray hairs coming loose from her braid.
“How are you? . . . I’m doing . . . Alright. I’ve been . . . The girls know, everyone does,” Rumi murmurs, raising her exposed, patterned arm, the pale color slowly turning brown, to the gravestone. As if it could even talk back.
“Did you see? . . . Can you? Magpie says that souls of Hunters go to the Honmoon when they die, but the old Honmoon was destroyed . . . Are you even there? Or am I going insane, just talking to a gravestone?” Rumi wipes one tear away, and suddenly she’s can’t see as silent tears pour down her face, dripping onto the cement, sinking into the earth.
Will her tears reach her mother’s bones, down below, if Rumi can’t each her soul?
The winds shift, a gentle caress against tear stained cheeks, and Rumi turns her head, looking over her shoulder where Celine stands at the edge of the field.
They stare at each other. Or rather, Rumi stares at Celine while the woman’s gaze rests just over her head, still unable to look at her. She doesn’t remember the last time she looked at Rumi completely. Maybe when she was a child?
When Rumi didn’t resemble her mother more and more?
“You came back,” Celine’s quiet voice carries across the field, easily heard in the gentle wind and with Rumi’s enhanced demon hearing. It’s a new thing, her demon senses slowly growing now that she’s stopped hiding.
“Yes,” Rumi whispers.
“Why?” Celine’s voice is breathy with pain.
Rumi slowly stands, her heart racing, but she’s oddly calm, detached in a floaty kind of way. Her body gradually changes, her patterns turning sharper, the colors now a more blue than brown, and her right hand turns completely demonic.
“I . . . Want to know what happened . . . To my mother,” she says, and Celine sucks in a hissing breath.
“You killed her,” comes the cold response, and Rumi flinches. She grew up believing this. But she also, if only briefly, grew up with Magpie and Tiger caring for her. Her Oppas never lied to her.
“What happened?” she asks again.
“You killed her,” comes the same response.
“Please, just tell me, what happened?” Rumi pleads, a fresh wave of tears pouring down her face, blurring her vision.
“You. Killed. HER!” Celine roars, lurching forward a step, fury and hate twisting her icy exterior.
“No! I didn’t!” Rumi yells back, the Honmoon rippling, the iridescent lines absorbing the maenga wave.
“YOU DID! Your very birth! YOU! You are his daughter! You took her away from me AGAIN!”
Rumi gasps as she’s shoved back, stumbling backwards, her heels hitting the gravestone’s raised dias.
“Celine?” she whispers, staring at homi gripped in the shaking woman’s tight grasp. It glints in the dying sun’s light, and Rumi automatically realizes it’s sharpened. Her heart stutters, but other than that, she’s weirdly calm. She’s not afraid of the homi.
“You did it, you did, it’s your fault, it’s all your fault she’s gone,” the woman mutters to herself, a mantra, staring through Rumi, her eyes straying down to the incense sticks.
“The old Honmoon is gone, I can’t sense her anymore.”
Rumi glances again at the wickedly curved homi. It’s not made from the Honmoon, but its steel blade is still sharp. Why does she have the homi? But, as soon as Rumi thinks that, she realizes she already knows. Yet, this time, she’s not so sure she can willingly accept being fixed.
She’s accepted, is that not enough?
“So why can I still hear her?! She won’t stop talking!” Celine screams, and Rumi swears she sees a flash of magenta in the woman’s eyes, and her brain switches into Hunter mode.
A demon? Gwi-ma? Was he whispering in the mind of her—caretaker? Guardian? “Aunt” at the furthest stretch of the word?
“Celine, wait, don’t listen to the voices! I don’t know how a demon got past the new Honmoon, but you can’t listen to it!” Rumi says urgently, taking a step forward, quickly surveying the woman. How could a demon get through? The Iridescent Honmoon sealed all the demons—the malevolent soul sucking ones—back to the demonic realm!
How could a ex-Hunter become influenced with an established Honmoon?
How can Rumi help her?
“A demon?” Celine blinks, confused.
Rumi takes another step forward.
“Yes! The voices, Mira and Zoey told me how Gwi-ma voiced their worst fears and used them against them. Whoever is speaking to you, they aren’t real,” Rumi explains, holding out her hands soothingly. Celine jerks, glancing down at Rumi’s hands, but she doesn’t take a step back.
“She isn’t a demon!” Celine snaps, her body shaking. Rumi realizes that the woman is only in her pajamas, just like the night when she fled to the woman to fix it all.
“Yes, but he’s using her voice, don’t you see? Gwi-ma’s a master at twisting our faults and fears against us,” Rumi says softly, finally taking the final step to Celine.
She’s unsure what to do next. With her girls, she hugs them so tight she wanted to become one with them, but the last time Celine touched her was to braid her hair when she was young.
“Our faults and fears must never be seen,” the woman instantly snaps, her cold eyes staring at Rumi, and she realizes that Celine is actually looking at her.
“No, they can, really! Look at the new Honmoon! Look how beautiful it is! It’s good! It’s strong because it’s open and accepting, uplifting us instead of shaming who we are!” Rumi says in a rush, trying to sway the woman.
Celine’s gaze rises over Rumi’s head to the gravestone.
“I know you’re still grieving, and I’m sorry, I’m sorry that I caused you pain,” Rumi whispers, reaching up to place a hand over her own heart. She imagines herself in Celine’s place, witnessing as either Mira or Zoey died right before her eyes, unable to do anything about it, their souls forever broken beyond repair.
She tries to think about it, but can’t without her own soul crying out in a phantom of deep despair.
How would she feel if she had to raise the child of one of her girls, knowing that the daughter was responsible for their death? She doesn’t know, she has no idea. Rumi considers her entire life up until this very moment. Yes . . . She knows Celine could have done better, but she did her best as an unexpected and unwilling mother.
She gave Rumi the skills to survive and to shine, and for that she’s forever grateful.
“I forgive you,” Rumi says, and Celine chokes back a strangled noise.
“I forgive you, you tried to do what you thought was right,” Rumi smiles weakly, but speaks truthfully. Celine could have killed her when she was born, but she chose to raise Rumi instead. She looks deep into Celine’s eyes, and sees no flicker of magenta. Did she convince her? Is the fake voice of her mother gone from the woman’s mind?
Rumi silently cries out when her chest erupts in a blazing inferno of pain, so hot that she doesn’t feel it at first. There’s a shrill ringing in her ears, a terrible screaming.
“I can’t, I can’t forgive myself,” Celine gasps, staring wide-eyed, her homi lodged in Rumi’s chest, straight to her heart.
“I didn’t do it, but she gave me no choice! She should never have gotten in the way, she betrayed me—the Hunters—when she chose him over us!” Celine wails, standing tall as Rumi drops to her knees, instinctively grabbing at the woman’s wrists, but Celine flinches away. Rumi’s hands then shakily grip the homi’s handle, and the Honmoon keeps howling.
— . HUNTR/DA . —
Seraphine drops her cup—glass shatters on the penthouse’s kitchen floor—Akali and Kai’sa are by her side in an instant—she runs to the window—she yanks her soul bonds taunt in fear—the Iridescent Honmoon convulses violently—an oath bound by soul and blood is broken.
— . HUNTR/DA . —
Mira and Zoey, already tense enough as it is, hear a whisper, so soft and faint, a burst of noise before fading away, just before the Honmoon reacts—before they feel the echoing pain of the other part of their soul scream.
It rings in their minds as they leap out of the car to the estate, weapons drawn, the Iridescent Honmoon all but shoving them toward their leader.
My daughter! Save . . . My . . . Daughter . . .
They race into the field, and they see this:
The sky, now only a faint red, purples and blues lengthening the shadows into a landscape of towering figures.
Rumi, on the ground, a sickle lodged deep in her chest, hands holding it—did she do it?—was it done to her?—red blood drenching her front, turning the grass black.
And Celine, standing before Rumi, twitching, but otherwise unmoving.
Mira and Zoey act as one, silent as the grave, blades cutting through the air, and Celine crumples to the grass.
“RUMI!” they cry out, rushing to her aid.
“Nononononono! Rumi!” Zoey skids on her knees, holding her soulmate and leader and one of the girls she loves so deeply in her arms, supporting her head. Mira drops to Rumi’s other side, hands frozen over the weapon in her chest.
Rumi’s hazy, dual-colored eyes turn to look at both of them, pain heavy in them.
“Mira?” she gurgles, blood pooling out of the corner of her lips. Mira quickly whips the blood away with her sleeve.
“We’re here, we’re here,” the dancer says quickly, shredding off stripes of her shirt to try to staunch the blood around the weapon.
“We need to go to the hospital, or-or-or-or something!” Zoey says shakily, arms wrapped tightly around Rumi.
“I—I—we need to get off the property—Magpie and Tiger still can’t enter with the wards—”
“We can’t move her! What if she bleeds out more!” Zoey cries. Rumi can’t leave them, she can’t! Aren’t they soulmates? They belong together, alive, together!
“We can’t wait here either!” Mira snaps, and sucks in a deep breath, fear and worry filling her as she tastes the heady smell of blood in the air. Rumi’s blood.
“There’s first aid in the training rooms, you stay here, keep her awake!” Mira orders, and presses a kiss on Rumi’s forehead, right on a mark that weakly glows gold before she takes off.
“Zoey?” Rumi asks, and Zoey gently shushes her.
“Save your strength, we’re gonna figure something out, I promise,” Zoey whimpers, keeping absolutely still as the sun finally sets, and the fireflies begin to appear. A gentle wind cards through Zoey’s hair, making Rumi’s eyes flutter.
“Mom?” Rumi groans, eyes nearly closing, and Zoey looks at the gravestone, completely pristine and cared for. Zoey knows that the souls of the Hunters of old were in the late Honmoon, and she doesn’t know where they’ve gone, but if there’s a chance for help, she’ll reach out and take it with all her might.
“Please, Ryu Mi-yeong, if you can help us, help save your daughter, please!” Zoey prays—
“Shit, what happened?!”
Zoey snaps her head up, jaw dropping when she sees Ahri—Ahri who should be in Paris still—crouching next to them, not caring a single wit that her designer clothes are being stained by Rumi’s blood.
“Betrayal, shame, guilty, take your pick, this place reeks of it.”
Zoey’s eyes flicker over to the living shadow looming over Ahri, and she hears Mira running back to them.
“You two?!” Mira grunts, her gok-do appearing in her hands, the first aid dropped to the ground. Ahri raises her hands soothingly.
“W-wait—they’re here to help! R-right?” Zoey says, reaching a hand for Mira, who immediately takes it. Ahri nods seriously.
“Of course, now, I need you to hold her very still, alright? We’ve got to get the homi out of her,” Ahri instructs, gesturing Mira to help support Rumi’s back just so.
Evelynn’s shadow form thickens, only her circular magenta shades standing out, almost glowing in the evening darkness. Mira and Zoey hear her say something in the demon language, and Ahri nods.
“I understand, let’s not waste anymore time,” the gumiho orders, and Evelyn leans over closer to Rumi, a shadowy, taloned hand curling around exposed blade of the homi to apply pressure on the makeshift bandages. Mira twitches at the sight, especially when Rumi jerks, and then she begins to relax in her soulmates’ arms, while Evelynn grunts, hissing as her form swells.
The living shadow barks something at Ahri, who turns her head to the side, her mouth full of sharp fangs, and bites down hard on the shadow. Evelynn twitches, a rumbling growl reverberating through Mira and Zoey. Ahri’s teal eyes glow icy-blue, and she grasps the hilt of the homi while above the other a sphere of blue spiritual energy gathers.
In one swift moment, Ahri yanks the homi out, and slams the blue spirit orb against the gaping wound. Rumi spasms, crying out, but Mira and Zoey hold her down, tears of fear and relief falling down their faces as they see Rumi’s body knitting itself back together.
Ahri snarls, biting down harder on shadow-Evelynn, who wheezes. Zoey suddenly feels lightheaded, her fear and worry for Rumi slowly slipping away from her, and she vaguely feels like she’s going to pass out. Mira looks no better, both of them swaying in their spots.
But Rumi needs her, so Zoey tries to focus through the sleepy numbness, and sees through hazy vision Rumi’s wound finally close.
Mira pinches herself to keep herself awake, distantly aware that this numbness isn’t hers, it’s something else, something feeding on her emotions. Without the anger and loneliness that’s plagued her during her entire childhood, Mira feels a strange sense of calmness.
She doesn’t know how Ahri and Evelynn appeared here, but she felt something shift in the estate when a gentle wind blew around them, something being removed. Mira shakes herself, fighting to stay awake, and her gaze lands on the still form of Celine. Without her anger, she just views the body with apathy, but it sparks a memory.
Something Rumi had told them, how Celine had controlled the Honmoon, shaped it with her fury.
With her mind clear, Mira reaches out to the Iridescent Honmoon, its lines spiraling over her palm, the same as they do when she summons her gok-do. She’s got no anger in her now, just worry, fear, and love.
Protect her, shield her, please don’t let her go, let her stay with us, Mira silently begs the Honmoon. Iridescent lines gently caress Rumi’s face, spooling around her body, lighting up her patterns one by one in the same shifting colors of the Honmoon.
Ahri and Evelynn settle back, giving the Hunters space as the Rumi’s patterns and Honmoon pulse in time with her steady heartbeat.
And just for a brief moment, while the Honmoon heals Rumi’s soul, one soul and a small flame appears by Rumi’s side, a Hunter, and her loyal shadow, before vanishing once more.
— . HUNTR/DA . —
Rumi wakes slowly to the sound of soft, gentle singing, groggy as if from a deep slumber. She can’t move, her limbs have been commandeered by her girls clinging to her sides. Turning her head, she realizes she’s in her room, and Seraphine is sitting on the floor next to her glass wall, eyes closed, singing something in another language.
And yet, Rumi can almost understand it, the words transcending language and soothing her soul. The songstress opens her eyes, smiling when she sees Rumi watching her.
“How are you feeling?” she asks softly, and Rumi rubs her chest absently.
“I . . . There’s no pain?” she says, confused.
“Good,” Mira huffs, waking up as well.
“Sleepy,” Zoey yawns, rubbing the sleep from her eyes.
“There shouldn’t be, physically or spiritually. Ahri and the Honmoon were very meticulous, and I’m just here to help speed up the process of smoothing over any remaining rough edges on your soul,” Seraphine cheerfully explains, getting to her feet.
“Please, let me or Ahri know if you’re feeling any discomfort with your soul, and we’ll be glad to help,” the songstress smiles, and quietly slipped out her room.
“You scared us, we thought we were going to lose you,” Mira says, her blunt words cushioned by her concern as she traces the patterns on Rumi’s shoulder, a soft golden glow illuminating her face in the morning light.
“We’re so glad you’re okay,” Zoey says, snuggling against her, tucking her head under Rumi’s chin.
“I think . . . I . . .” Rumi trails off, unsure what to say.
What to even think.
Celine . . . Was responsible for her parent’s deaths? It was an accident? A betrayal?
And because of her mother’s actions, Celine had tried to kill her?
What happed to Celine?
Awake!
Rumi looks past Zoey and sees her Oppas standing guard, a relieved expression on Magpie’s face, and a somewhat less derpy looking expression on Tiger’s.
Rest, little sprout, the day can wait, Magpie says gently, and Rumi nods.
“Yeah, listen to Oppa Sussie,” Zoey says with a small laugh.
“We’ll be here when you wake up,” Mira promises, and Rumi smiles, succumbing to slumber once again with her girls.
— . HUNTR/DA . —
The next day, Rumi’s back to normal, her demonic changes reverted once again leaving only the patterns. Her girls fuss over her, worrying if she’s pushing herself, but truly, she isn’t. Magpie and Seraphine both reassure her girls that given Rumi’s half-demon heritage, she heals faster, and on top of that she’s received been additional healing by a gumiho and a soul mage.
Speaking of the former, Ahri looks like she got hit with a truck. When Rumi finally emerged from her room, she and her girls found the gumiho resting at the kitchen island, face down, Evelynn stroking her back while Kai’sa stress cooks and Akali attempts to feed her soup.
To Rumi’s immense horror and guilt, they learn that the gumiho’s healing style isn’t just a one-and-done-heal-everything’s-all-fine. Instead, to heal someone with her Essence, Ahri takes on the pain herself. Now, with Evelynn, they could somewhat loophole that usual side effect by having Evelynn eat the pain first, and then have Ahri siphon that energy from Evelynn.
Rumi bows deeply to the gumiho, wondering where Celine fled to after—doing what she did.
“I’d do it again if I had to, no questions asked,” she smiles, and then nearly chokes when Akali swiftly jabs a spoonful of soup in her open mouth.
“There, eat up Ahri-sama, it’s chicken! You like those right?” the rouge jokes, and Ahri’s ears playfully flatten.
“Just because I’m a gumiho doesn’t mean I automatically like chicken!” she exclaims, but still opens her mouth expectantly for another spoonful.
“Akali, don’t overfeed her, we don’t want her to become bloated,” Kai’sa lectures, pointing a wooden ladle at the rouge.
“Do you need a, ah, pick-up boost, song?” Seraphine asks, leaning against the gumiho.
“I’m fine—gurklsf—Akali! Not when I’m talking!”
Rumi smiles at the antics, her gaze trailing over to Evelynn leaning against the refrigerator, watching everyone with a neutral expression.
Unlike Ahri, who smells like ancient forest and moss—her demon side instantly realizing that she’s in the presence of a very old being—Evelynn’s scent is harder to pin down. It’s ever shifting, bits and pieces of something that Rumi almost identifies before it changes again.
The only thing Rumi can confidently say is that Evelynn has a muted, earthy scent, almost similar to Ahri’s, and that her demon instincts tell her that she’s also super old. Perhaps even older than Gwi-ma.
Evelynn looks at her, and tilts her head, her long, leathery lashers capped with metal claws sway elegantly next to her.
Good afternoon, princess, sleep well? Evelynn drawls.
“Yes, I did,” Rumi replies, walking into the kitchen and bows low to K/DA, Mira and Zoey following suit.
“Thank you very much for helping us!” they say in unison, bowing again.
“You’re welcome, now rise, rise, we’re all equals here,” Ahri says with a smile.
“I hope you don’t mind, but I used your kitchen to make some easy japchae, although I apologize if it isn’t great, I’m still learning how to properly cook Korean foods,” Kai’sa announces, holding up a wok with her bare hands—albeit covered in her second-skin.
“Oooh, that smells amazing!” Zoey says, and everyone pulls out stools at the kitchen island, Kai’sa nervously waiting for their reactions.
“Yo, this is good, although—” Mira reaches for the bottle of gochujang just as Akali does, both of them freezing, staring at each other—and then they lunge for it. Mira manages to swipe it faster.
“Mine! Get your own!” she growls, pouring a rather scary amount on her noodles.
“Bro—the markets are closed! Hand it over before you use all of it!” Akali cries out, almost climbing over the island counter before Kai’sa quickly yanks the rouge back down.
“Oh my gosh, this is sooooo tasty!” Zoey smiles wide, digging in.
“You’ve outdone yourself again, Bokkie,” Evelynn purrs, making Kai’sa blush. Ahri doesn’t say anything, not because she has no opinions on it, but because she’s busy scarfing it down, arms curled around her bowl like she’s resource guarding it.
Seraphine coughs a little into her nakpin, her cheeks flushed red.
“It’s great Kai’sa!” she says weakly, and Rumi hums sympathetically.
“Too spicy?” she asks between bites—she didn’t realize how hungry she was until now—Seraphine nods, abashed.
“Baby has a very low spice tolerance,” Ahri finally says, putting down an empty bowl, and the tips of Seraphine’s ears pinken.
“Ahrrrriii,” she whines.
“Wait a second, isn’t Los Angeles known for having spicy food?” Zoey asks.
“Well, yes, but my family has never been able to stomach spicy foods,” the songstress explains.
“Genetics can be a bitch,” Akali huffs.
“Tell me about it,” Mira grunts.
“I actually think the study of genetics is quite fascinating, seeing what traits a person receives and what they don’t, which can lead to people looking entirely different in the same family or the vice versa,” Kai’sa says cheerfully.
“True that! I’ve got a younger cousin in Canada from my dad’s side and she and I look so similar even with the age difference!” Zoey pipes up.
Evelynn’s eyes flick over to Rumi, her golden eyes searching for something.
“Lineage is a funny thing, sometimes even ironic if you’re around long enough to witness them,” the demon drawls.
“What do you mean?” Rumi asks, but Evelynn just smirks, her lashers swaying contently.
Nothing to worry your pretty little head, princess, she drawls.
“So, now that we’ve eaten a little, let’s talk shop! We’ve already discussed having a couple full group songs, but how do we want to break up the rest of the song distribution?” Ahri claps, excited.
“My first thought was having songs with matching roles, like Ahri and me, Mira and Kai’sa, Zoey and Akali, etcetera,” Rumi suggests.
“We could also mix up the pairings too,” Kai’sa offers.
“Do we want to keep the music video concepts linked, or separate? That will influence costuming,” Evelynn asks.
“I’m down with having something connecting all of them, besides us, it’ll turn into a scavanger hunt for the fans!” Akali smiles.
“Are you thinking a color or an item?” Ahri turns to Evelynn, and the demon drums her metal talons on the island counter.
“What about gold? Both Rumi and you have the demon gold eyes, we already have the song Golden, it’s a HUNTR/X thing, and you had a lot of gold accents in More,” Zoey says thoughtfully.
“That could work, using gold,” Ahri muses.
“Mixing in purple and black, it would definitely pop, also if we added lightning patterns to match Rumi’s,” Mira adds, looking to Rumi with warm affection, and Rumi smiles at her girl.
“Gold it is then,” Rumi says, and Zoey grins happily up at her, wrapping her hands around Rumi’s arm.
“This is good brainstorming, but we will also have to factor in time for Rumi’s training with me,” Evelynn says, and Rumi looks at her determined.
“I’m ready whenever you are,” she says, and the demon smirks.
“Oh? How about now?” she drawls.
“Now?” Rumi, Mira, and Zoey all say in unison, surprised. Evelynn nods.
“Eve! She’s still eating!” Kai’sa sighs, but Evelynn stalks around the kitchen island to stand close to Rumi, her lashers rising behind her.
“Demons digest fast. Anyway, are you really ready, princess?” Evelynn purrs, offering her taloned hand, and Rumi takes it.
“Yes, seonsaengnim,” she says, and the two disappear as Evelynn’s black smoke envelops them.
— . HUNTR/DA . —
Rumi stumbles as the ground rises beneath faster than she expects. Her patterns light up all over her body, the pale iridescent color shining like a white beacon in the oppressive dark-purple gloom.
“Evelynn?” she hisses, spinning in place, hardly seeing anything through the darkness other than barren land tinged red. She holds out her hand to summon her saingeom—and nothing appears. She looks up into the night sky when she senses a distant, concerned answer far above her head. The gloom here is so strong she can’t make out any stars . . .
Where on earth did Evelynn even take her?
“Evelynn! Come on, this isn’t funny,” she whispers harshly, scanning the cracked dirt for any tracks.
There! A stiletto heel mark!
Rumi huffs, and starts walking in the direction the mark is pointing to, sniffing the stale air, not smelling a god damn thing. She feels distinctly vulnerable without her saingeom in her hand, the lack of the Honmoon blade making her nervous. So far, she hasn’t seen or heard anyone around her, not even a rustle of wind.
It feels like Evelynn dumped her in the—
Rumi freezes, her breath catching as her patterns immediately turn bight red.
“Evelynn?! Hello?! Anyone?!” Rumi turns in place, shouting, her own voice echoing back to her, and magenta lines ripple aggressively around her, even flowing into the “sky”.
“Oh god, oh god, oh god, no, this isn’t real,” Rumi pants, her breath coming fast.
There is no sky.
Where the fuck is the sky?!
Suddenly she can’t just stay standing still, so she bolts, running in to nowhere, the landscape hardly changing except for a couple reddish rocks. Her heartbeat in her ears, she just runs, the feeling almost grounding, if not for the fact that she feels like she hasn’t even moved.
Skidding to a stop, she stumbles against a charred tree, the only upright thing she’s seen in—how long has it been? Time doesn’t feel real here—there’s no sense of it.
Sliding down, she presses her back to the tree, the charred trunk warm to the touch, and curls her knees close to her chest. She wants to see Mira and Zoey again, her girls, but she would never want them to descend down into the demonic realm for her. Rumi isn’t even sure she can get out, not with the Iridescent Honmoon shielding demons from rising.
Evelynn, how could she do this?! Was this a betrayal? Some sort of sick joke? She thought Evelynn was trustworthy!
Taking a break already, hmm~?
Rumi’s on her feet, hand instinctively held out for her saingeom—and when that fails, her arms turn demonic.
“EVELYNN?!” she roars, both furious and oh so relieved to see the demon leisurely reclining on the charred tree, one knee even propped up as if it was a photoshoot. Her clothes are still as perfect as they were above, nearly sparkling with brilliance down here, while Rumi’s covered in a thin film of reddish dust.
Oh? A partial transformation? Have you thought about trying the full thing? Don’t worry, no one will see, it’s fairly deserted in these parts, Evelynn gestures lazily to the desolate landscape around them.
“Why are we in the—here?!” Rumi hisses.
Well, I thought you would want to know what happened to the guilty Hunter’s soul, the demon says casually, but her smirk hints at her true feelings. Rumi blinks rapidly, confused.
“What do you mean? Why would Celine’s soul be here?”
Evelynn lowers her shades down with a single metal claw, raising an eyebrow at Rumi.
Surely you can’t be that dense. Tell me, what do you think your mates did after she tried to kill you?
Rumi looks away from the intense golden gaze, staring at the ground. She knew her girls hated Celine, even stating their intent to kill . . . But did they really do it? For her?
Yes, they would, she knows they’re just as protective of her as she is for them. Rumi knows instantly, that she doesn’t feel anything negative toward them for killing Celine, but, she’s just sad that it had to happen.
She rubs her chest where she was stabbed, her memories hazy after the initial wounding, but she swears she saw a familiar face in the corner of her vision, never truly visible.
Come on, let’s go get you your answers, Evelynn commands, and begins to walk away into the gloom. Rumi hesitates for a moment, looking around at the bleak demonic realm, and the hurries to catch up to her new demon seonsaengnim.
— . HUNTR/DA . —
“By the way, what are we gonna do with Celine?” Akali asks when Evelynn and Rumi disappear.
“That, is an excellent question. We can’t just make her disappear because she’s too well known, people will investigate where she’s gone,” Ahri muses.
“So we organize her funeral then?” Kai’sa asks.
“I don’t really care what happens to her,” Mira growls. Zoey places a hand on the dancer’s arm.
“What if we said she had cancer? Or a heart attack? Those things happen randomly to people, it wouldn’t be too out of the ordinary?” Zoey says.
“We could always throw her into the Void? It practically cleans itself up,” Kai’sa suggests, and then tilts her head when everyone stares at her silently.
“You all are very relaxed about hiding a murder,” Seraphine mutters.
“And what would you have done if you were there? She tried to kill Rumi!” Mira snaps, and the songstress hums a calming note, the tension in the room instantly softening. Mira and Zoey stare at her in shock.
“I am not scolding you for killing her, she broke a soul oath, death is a mercy. I was surprised how calm everyone is about it, and—I am not judging—it reminded me that all of you have experience in fighting and killing. I am still thinking on it,” Seraphine explains.
The others glance at each other at that statement. The songstress isn’t wrong. A gumiho who has feasted on ancient souls and now siphons emotions from her fans, a Voidling-host who survived the Void by embracing her wild instincts, an ex-Kinkou Order ninja assassin who’s taken out marks before, and two demon Hunters who now have killed their first human.
“Huh, really? Oh! Does this mean this is your first time hiding a dead body?!” Akali points at Seraphine with her chopsticks. Seraphine rolls her eyes, but nods.
“Ours too, demons helpfully just turn into ash,” Mira drawls.
“Anyway, back on topic, we need to come up with a cover story soon, no doubt Celine’s absence will be noticed the longer she doesn’t show up for work,” Ahri says.
“Oh my god, what about the autopsy? It’s going to show blade wounds!” Zoey pales.
“Don’t worry about that part, my father knows ways we can hide those,” Kai’sa says, smiling, and Voidy chirps in agreement.
“Bookie’s dad fights against the Void, so whenever someone turns up with Void wounds, he covers it up,” Akali says, a note of respect in her voice.
“Okay, making a reminder to call in Mr. Ossur . . . I like the idea about the heart attack, that has a far more likely chance to occur in older people, and Celine has a reputation for being high maintenance stressed, so bad blood pressure levels. It will mean that you two will have to convincingly act sad and in mourning,” Ahri says, looking pointedly at Mira.
“I can act,” she grunts.
“She could still be like herself, her whole fan-cultivated theme is that she’s not that expressive and is aggressively blunt, so if she plays it right, she could just channel her anger at Celine in a way that fans think she’s angry that Celine’s gone,” Akali says. Mira glances at her appreciatively.
“Can you handle pretending to be sad for Celine?” Ahri turns to Zoey, who gives her a thumbs up.
“Yup! Of course!” Zoey says cheerfully, and in a blink, she’s suddenly on the verge of tears, sniffling, a crestfallen expression on her face.
Mira whistles.
“Damn girl, where have these acting skills been hiding,” the dancer nudges Zoey with a smirk, and after quickly wiping the tears from her eyes, Zoey’s back to her bubbly demeanor.
“I was a theatre kid in high school, acting is fun!” she giggles.
“Wait, where is Celine’s body right now—for example, did someone place it somewhere?” Seraphine suddenly asks, and everyone looks at Ahri.
“. . . I buried her in the field, wouldn’t want her body to be found by accident,” she says.
.
.
.
“Oh shoot I forgot to tell Bobby all of you are here!” Zoey exclaims, bringing up her phone.
“Rematch spar?” Mira looks at Akali as she stands up.
“Fuck yeah!” the rouge grins wickedly.
“I’ll moderate,” Kai’sa volunteers herself.
“Knock yourselves out, but please, Akali, remember we are here as guests, so try not to make a mess,” Ahri sighs, but her ears flick playfully.
“OH MY GOD IS THAT A FLUFFY BLUE TIGER?!” Seraphine screams.
— . HUNTR/DA . —
“So, quick question, why are we in the demonic realm? Surely there could have been better places to choose to dump us,” Rumi sighs, trying to tamp down her growling, becoming slightly more annoyed the longer they keep walking. Evlynn hasn’t looked back once, her heels sounding severe in the gloomy fog.
More space to go wild. Ever wonder why your patterns look the way they do? Evelynn replies, confusing Rumi with her question.
“Um, because they’re from G—mmh!” Rumi stumbles a little when a lasher slaps itself over her mouth.
This is your first official lesson one: names have power. Remember that. A non-mortal does not just say a name causally. The stronger the being whose name you utter into existence, the more aware they are of who speaks of them. And other strong beings can hear when names not their own are spoken in their territory.
Magpie, however, is a special case, as he is a messenger spirit, so he has no need of a name, and names have no power over him. But—his companion is a good luck spirit, who could be tethered with a name by those seeking eternal luck, Evelynn stops, and turns to face Rumi, her lasher lowering.
Lesson two: the Demon King you know and fought is but one of many old and powerful demons to hold the Title of “King”. He is the Demon King who claimed South Korea as his hunting grounds. He is the mortal fear of the eternal hunger of flames embodied, this is why he requires souls to sustain him, and why he can create more of his demon spawns from stolen souls, Evelynn lectures.
Lesson three: cast aside all you think you know about the realms of reality, you are a being who straddles all three. That makes you special .
A lasher gently pokes Rumi in the stomach, its lethal sharp claws grazing over a pattern.
It also makes you dangerous. All that powerful, untapped potential, there will be creatures salivating to take it from you, Evelynn points a metal talon at Rumi’s heart.
Also, a piece of advice: you might want to ditch the mortal speech while you’re down here, it attracts too much attention as is, the demon crosses her arms, lazily looking around them. Rumi glances about herself, but doesn’t see any demons.
“Wait—you—”
Rumi clears her throat, takes a moment to clear her head, and this time deliberately reaches for her demonic voice. It comes easier than she expects.
“About lesson one, should I have called you something else? Instead of saying your name?” she asks, and Evelynn smirks, tossing a lock of platinum hair over her shoulder.
Oh no darling you can keep saying my name, she snickers.
“Huh? But you just said—”
Yes I’m aware, but it matters little if the Demon King knows I’m here. He can’t do anything to me, especially now that he’s severely weakened and wounded—brilliant slash by the way, Evelynn drawls, a self-satisfied expression gracing her face. Rumi’s eyes widen.
“You were there?! You saw—”
Ah no, I was still in Paris. Some wandering spirits spoke about it to my mate, who told me, and then your Iridescent Honmoon was born, and it holds the memories of what happened that night, Evelynn explains.
“Oh, okay,” Rumi mumbles, thinking back to the worst and best day of her life.
Back to my first question; where do your patterns come from? Evelynn asks, staring at Rumi curiously.
Rumi’s first reaction is to say her demon father, but Evelynn already knows that, she wants something else. Since she was born with patterns, who’s to say that her father was born with them? Or maybe he gained them like Jinu? Was he a mortal who made a deal with G—the Demon King?
Jinu’s patterns looked a little like hers, like lightning, but while his were thick and angry like brands, hers have always been more intricate. She wonders if that’s because she was born with hers, and his was forced upon him by the Demon King.
Think on it, Evelynn says, and then turns, continuing to walk. Rumi trots after her, slowing when they’re side by side.
“Where are we going? And how can you even navigate this place?” she asks. Evelynn waves a hand in front of her, her shadows manifesting around her fingers playfully.
We are headed to where the guilty Hunter’s soul should have descended. As for your second question, why don’t you tap into the demonic energy around us? Get a feel for it, but don’t let it consume you, Evelynn instructs. Rumi closes her eyes, boldly reaching around her like she would for the Honmoon, and flinches when loud noise fills her ears. It’s like someone is blaring static right in her ears, bits and pieces of words and screams and noises all in a jumbled, never ending, chaotic wail—
SNAP!
Rumi opens her eyes when as the sharp noise breaks the static noise, looking at Evelynn who lowers her talons.
Again, but don’t just stick your whole damn head in the energy’s flow for spirits’ sake, listen first, feel it, Evelynn sighs exasperatedly. A twinge of shame of disappointing her seonsaengnim makes her patterns pulse red. Rumi nods, and tries again, this time much more cautiously.
Tensing, she slowly opens herself to the demonic energy, not quite reaching out as hard and fast as she did the first time. With the Honmoon, she’s so used to immediately demanding what she wants and it instantly giving her her sword.
It’s almost ironic, and a little strange, that she has to be more polite when interacting with demonic energy.
The static clamors at her, but since she’s only gently reached for it, she can almost hear more distinct words and phrases now. A warm hand falls on her shoulder, metal talons drumming lighting against her skin.
Scent doesn’t stick in the demonic realm as it does in the mortal realm. Granted, that rule has loopholes if a Demon King decides they want their territory to have scents or not, most don’t. So you have to use the energy around you to find what you want. Think of her, the one you seek, and the path will be revealed, Evelynn says, and Rumi thinks of Celine.
Celine . . . Who died. It’s strange, how quick her brain readjusts to thinking of the woman in the past tense. Now, where is she?
The demonic energy around them ripples, and she can feel an almost phantom push at her back, her feet starting to walk in a direction. Evelynn grins at her, lashers flicking like the tail of a satisfied cat.
Hmm, we’ll make a demon out of you yet, princess, she drawls, following after Rumi. Rumi can’t tell if the demon is mocking her or being genuine, so she opts to just ignore the comment.
— . HUNTR/DA . —
They walk for who knows how long, Evelynn speaking all the while.
Lesson four: the passing of time works differently in every realm of reality, obeying different laws governed by different beings. In the spiritual realm, time has no meaning, for nothing changes unless willed so by the divinity. In the mortal realm, time is ruled by the sun.
And in the demonic realm, the demons who clawed to claim the Title of “King” through sheer might or cunning or blood control the already crawling passage of time in their given territory. The Demon King here loved to torture his subjects, and so he reverted time, rendering everything barren and desolate.
They come across a long scorch mark in the rock ground. It hisses as smoke wafts from the line, it stretching as far as the eye can see into the gloom, curving randomly in places.
Lesson five: there are spiritual wards to prevent those of demonic blood to pass through. It hurts “like your essence being set ablaze and getting stabbed in the cunt by a motherfucking bitch at the same time”—according to a demon I once tested it on—to attempt to touch or cross. Spiritual wards old enough and powerful enough can even project through other realms of reality, and the wards on the Hunter’s old estate are very ancient.
Demons also have their own version, but usually only sufficiently talented and strong Titled demons could use demonic wards effectively. Jinu was merely a child at four hundred years old, a little demon boy playing with the equivalent of grenades when the Demon King granted him the authority to use the King’s wards.
However, only Titled demons of significant power can break spiritual wards, and vice versa, only powerful spirits can break demonic wards.
Rumi can’t feel the heat Evelynn describes. Indeed, it looks like the spiritual wards have been removed, given by the soft smoking from the scorched line. Rumi peers past the line, eyes narrowing when she sees a strange lump in the distant gloom, just barely silhouetted by some ambient demonic energy.
Lesson six: there are multiple ways to become demons, far more than ways to become a spirit. The easiest and stupidest is to make a deal with a demon, sell your mortal soul and the like. Second; if a demon eats your soul to give to a Titled demon, preferably a King or Queen, who then consumes it, and remakes an echo of the soul as their new spawn.
Third, if a soul has done evil or made way for darkness in the mortal realm, their choices stain their soul enough that the spiritual realm rejects them that the soul descends to the demonic realm where they slowly change. The soul either is overwhelmed by their guilt, turning into a demon, or despair, and becomes another lost voice in the flow of demonic energy.
Lastly, if a Titled demon procreates with a mortal to produce a half breed demon.
. . . Wait, what?
“My dad had a Title?” Rumi asks in surprise, and Evelynn nods.
Well obviously. How else would your voice affect the Honmoon so much? You were born from a Hunter and a Titled demon, the Honmoon is in your blood, Evelynn scoffs.
“Do . . . Do you know who? Or at least, do you suspect?” Rumi asks quietly. Did her mother know her father was a Titled demon? Did he hide it from her?
Do you know where your patterns come from? Evelynn asks instead, and Rumi sighs.
“Is that C—er—is that . . . Her?” Rumi switches topics, pointing at the hunched lump in the distance. Evelynn narrows her eyes, but slowly nods. A lasher nudges Rumi across the broken spiritual wards of the Hunter’s estate up above in the mortal realm.
Lesson seven: heirarchy is important to demon “culture” as it were. It keeps demons in line and prevents any more chaos for Titled demons. And the lowest demon you could be is one who was once a damned soul, someone who threw away their soul that every demon instinctively covets. They cannot disobey Titled demons, especially if that Titled demon knows their name.
Rumi glances back at Evelynn for reassurance, but the demon gestures for her to continue. So she does, steeling her nerves before trudging to the hunched figure.
— . HUNTR/DA . —
Rumi stares at the crumpled figure of Celine, her form tinged red, almost see-through in spots, but still very much her. She doesn’t notice Rumi standing in front of her, their positions switched from what they were on that fateful day.
God, which day? Rumi’s knelt before her twice in that cursed field.
“Hey,” she says, and the woman’s head snaps up, bloody tears streaming down her face, but when they drop off, the tears dissolve into wisps of demonic energy.
Y-you! Y-you’re h-here! Celine rasps, hands snapping to her throat, terrified at the change in her voice.
“That night, when you came to me. There was no demon that night, was there? You weren’t possessed or hearing things,” Rumi asks quietly, observing the differences in the woman. As a soul, she’s torn in places across her body, almost as if attacked from the inside, but the most prominent wounds are the gaping tears on her neck and puncture wounds in her chest. Her soul fraying around those openings, unable to heal, even with demonic energy.
N-no, I was! I heard her in my ear! I swear it! Celine pleads. Rumi takes a deep breath.
“What happened to my mom, truthfully, Celine,” she orders, and the woman’s entire body shakes with Rumi’s use of her name.
I . . . It was four days after you were born, when Gwi-ma sent a hoard of demons to attack the estate. They were targeting the wards, so we had to attack first. We were winning, fending them off, but that’s when he came, and he opened a door in the wards, allowing them inside! Celine spits out.
He was lying saying it was for our protection, to make a fake weakness to funnel in the demons instead of them overwhelming the wards, and she fell for it! We got split up, I think Dan-bi went down at some point, but I had to get to her , to save her from making a mistake.
She wasn’t even fighting! He was going to stab her in the back! I know it! So I had to kill him first—but—but— the woman’s tears makes Rumi’s demon senses perk up, something telling her that Celine doesn’t have long before she either turns into a demon or demonic energy.
“And what else? Just say it, Celine!” Rumi barks out, half pleading and half mad with desperation.
What happened to her mother?
I killed her! I—She jumped in my way—I always told her that the mubuchae wasn’t a proper demon hunting weapon—she couldn’t even deflect my homi if she wanted—he grabbed her—they died together—she chose him, over me! Why? Mi-yeong, why did you choose him?! the woman wails, demonic energy swirling around her now.
Rumi stumbles back, her chest heaving as she sucks in ragged breaths. Celine killed her parents? Demonic energy begins to form in a maelstrom around them, and Rumi stares, horrified, as scenes from Rumi’s childhood flash one after another, but Celine’s thoughts whisper hatefully over each memory.
But one stands out the clearest: Celine entering Rumi’s old nursery, her Honmoon homi glowing as she stares down at infant Rumi, prepared to kill her.
It’s a monster, a leech. I can’t let it infect Mimi’s perfect legacy, Celine’s voice whispers from the malestrom, and the woman in the scene raises her weapon. However, the Honmoon stopped her, and Celine had stalked away, the scene fading once again.
I’m sorry, I’m sorry, I’m sorry, Celine wails, her skin turning a dark magenta, becoming the familiar leathery hide of a demon, her teeth elongating into fangs, and her eyes changing too. Her body warps, reforming, except, around the marks inflicted by Honmoon metal the demon’s flesh scars over in jagged crests.
Mi-yeong, you forgave me once, can you forgive me again? the woman . . . No, the demon pleads, raising a clawed hand to Rumi—
A lasher whips into sight, and the demon-who-was-once-Celine howls in pain, throwing herself back with a snarl as her arm goes flying into the gloom. Evelynn stalks forward, standing next to Rumi.
Tsk tsk, demons these days, no manners, that’s no way to approach a princess, Evelynn croons, her human form melting away into her demonic one.
Rumi stares in awe; light purple skin was adorned by writhing masses of shadows, stripes of magenta flame like lava swirling in the shadows. Her hands were tipped by magenta talons, her silvery hair is alight on fire, and her lashers composed of even darker shadows and tipped my lethal looking spikes.
And not a pattern in sight.
Something instinctual in Rumi realizes she’s in the presence of a Demon Queen. Now the username in their private chat makes sense.
It’s about time to wrap up the lessons for today, but first, do you have anything else you wish to say? It will be the last thing she hears, Evelynn says, one lasher hovering around Rumi and the other still aimed at the demon who was cowering demon.
“Wait, why?” she asks.
Well, she’s now the Demon King’s spawn, beholden to obey him, and as an ex-Hunter, she has a wealth of knowledge about you and your mates that could be used against you. Which of course we don’t want that to fall into the wrong hands. Better to silence her now, before she becomes more of headache in the future, Evelynn drawls.
Rumi looks down at the cowering demon, unsure what to say. Or if she should say anything at all. Celine wanted her to be her mother, but Rumi just wanted to be Rumi. She’s tried her entire life to mold herself into the perfect idol Celine desired, she pleaded with her to see who she is, but all her efforts to reach out to the woman were rebuffed.
Evelynn’s explanation makes sense, in a cold way. Celine knew everything about Rumi and her girls, how they fought, how they worked, and more. She knew that the Hunters were parts of a single soul, and her knowledge could put Rumi’s girls in danger. Whatever she feels about Celine, Rumi refuses to endanger her girls.
“If rebirth exists, I . . . I wish you a less hateful life,” Rumi says to the cowering demon, closing her eyes. There’s a sharp gasp—squelshhh!—and Rumi feels the warm sensation of Evelynn’s shadows envelop her.
— . HUNTR/DA . —
“Riiiiissssseeeeee and shiiiiineeeee!”
“Zo, what time is it?” Rumi groans into her pillow.
“Rumi! It’s time to get up! You promised!”
Rumi hears and feels her bed dip, and her girl flops next to her over her covers.
“Remind me again?” Rumi yawns, opening her eyes to the sight of Zoey’s excited smile, her brown eyes sparkling with energy.
“You said we could go to the skate park!” Zoey quietly squeals.
Ah yes, she did.
After she and Evelynn returned from the demonic realm, she had gone straight to bed, and slept for almost the whole day. When she woke up later that night with her stomach growling at her, trudged to the kitchen, Mira and Zoey were there, a ramyeon already set up and ready to be warmed up.
Her girls had told her about their day with K/DA. Mira and Akali sparred to decide who was the better fighter with Kai’sa watching, the two making an absolute mess of the gym with slashes from Mira’s gok-do and Akali’s oversized kama. In the end, Mira won the first round, and then Akali won the second.
Seraphine and Zoey spent time with her Oppas, making a game to see how many things they could balance on Tiger before he moved, and opening up about being biracial in the United States. Zoey’s got a lot of selfies with the songstress. Magpie apparently stayed with Ahri for most of the day, the gumiho on her phone texting Taric and other people to coordinate the collab.
Rumi in turn had told them everything that happened in the demonic realm, and her girls had hugged her tightly. Then Zoey mentioned something about getting out of the penthouse to experience some fresh air, and Rumi had sleepily suggested going to the skate park that the maknae always likes to visit. Which brings her back to the present.
“Okay, lemme get up, is Mira awake?” Rumi yawns again, sitting up. Zoey leaps off her bed, nodding.
“Great! I’ll get the wheels!” she giggles, and runs out of Rumi’s room. She grins to herself, and gets ready for the day.
— . HUNTR/DA . —
Seoul’s Forest Skate Park in Seongdong-gu is usually empty this early in the morning, which Rumi can’t help but be thankful for. It’s the first venture outside the penthouse—baring the impromptu visit to the demonic realm—with her patterns, although they all agreed to dress casual to blend in as best they could before inevitably someone recognized them.
Rumi’s wearing one of her new cropped hoodies and her favorite ripped jeans, her hood pulled up to hide her iconic purple hair. Mira’s got on a two-tone, black short sleeve and white shirt that she’s tied up the excess material in a knot at her waist, her darker jeans, and her black cap with her gold glasses. Zoey’s decided to go with an oversized blue shirt with Tiger’s face on it, baggy trousers, and her beloved yellow bucket hat.
Standing on her decorated longboard, Zoey smiles at them brilliantly.
“Okay, so in skating, balance and confidence is key! Which you have in spades!” she says giving them a thumbs up. Sitting on the bench, Rumi looks at Zoey described as a “cruiser” resting next to her, feeling the new wheels. It’s got a purple underbelly a gold trim, something that she suspects Mira had a hand in. The dancer in question is rolling her skateboard side-to-side under her shoes.
“Have you two done this a lot?” she asks, and Mira hums.
“Hm, not as much as you’d think, we had more time as trainees, but between training to be an idol and a demon hunter, we haven’t been able to get out as much as we’d like,” she drawls.
“Ready to start?” Zoey asks, holding out her hands. Rumi takes a breath, feeling shyly nervous when she places her cruiser down, and gets on it, taking her girl’s hands. She sings in front of thousands of people and kills demons as her job, she can handle a cruiser! The board under her shifts slightly every time she adjusts her balance, and at Zoey’s gentle nudging, she shifts her stance wider.
“That’s it! Now keep your knees bent a little, try not to lock them though,” the maknae instructs, and with a slow push with her foot, they’re rolling along the walkway. Rumi grins at the feeling, the cruiser under her smoother than she thought it would be with wheels on cement.
“Yeah! That’s it, unnie!” Zoey smiles, swaying her longboard in calm waves to keep them moving. Mira’s keeping along with them on her skateboard behind Rumi, her wheels making more noise than Rumi’s cruiser and Zoey’s longboard.
Rumi glances behind her, and flushes seeing the dancer’s effortlessly relaxed pose, hands in her pockets, head held high, her hair flowing behind her. She radiates cool vibes, and let’s be real, it’s hot. Zoey giggles at her, and Rumi whips her head back around, her patterns faintly glowing gold.
“Yeah, she’s woah,” her girl whispers conspiringly, fanning herself. Now only holding onto Zoey with one hand, Rumi feels like she’s getting the hand of the cruiser.
“There’s a turn up ahead,” Mira says, pushing ahead of them.
“Okay, so for turns, you should apply pressure to whatever side of the board you want to turn with your toes while keeping your upper body upright, so you don’t fall over, like this,” Zoey says, adjusting her feet on her longboard, which turns toward Rumi before Zoey corrects herself.
“Can you show me again?” Rumi asks, staring down intently, watching how her girl moves her body. As the turn approaches, Rumi perfectly executes the turn, and Zoey beams at her.
“You’re a natural at this!” she praises, and Rumi blushes, the gold glow of her patterns brightening.
“Hey, is it alright if check out the ramps?” Mira asks, and Rumi waves her on. She doesn’t want to be the reason that Mira has to hold back.
“You sure?” the dancer asks, slowing down so she can lay a hand on Rumi’s shoulder. She grins up at the dancer.
“Yeah! You go have fun, don’t worry about me,” she urges, and Mira gives her a soft smile. Nodding, she skates off swiftly, startling Rumi at the speed.
“Ooh, wanna watch her? When she gets in the grove she’s going!” Zoey asks excitedly, and who is Rumi to deny her? With Zoey guiding them, they slowly make their way to the paved area where large wooden and metal ramps were set up. By now, the park is slowly filling with people, given it’s a weekend and the weather is beautiful.
Zoey keeps them circling the ramp area, the maknae keeping an eye on the path ahead while Rumi stares at Mira. She doesn’t even know the names for the moves the dancer is doing, but she’s zooming around, leaping up, kicking her skateboard to spin, and still sticking the landing!
Mira sees them, and during a jump mid-air flashes them a peace sign and a wink. Both Rumi and Zoey blush, glancing at each other.
“Do you wanna try a ramp?” Zoey asks, and Rumi glances at the smooth structures, suddenly realizing they’re a lot taller than she thought. She sees Mira approach one of the larger side ramps, swiftly rolling all the way to the top, does something to hook the wheels on the lip, hanging on for a brief moment, before releasing to zoom down.
“Sure,” she says, and Zoey grins.
“Great! We can start small—”
“What about that one?” Rumi interrupts, gesturing to the ramp Mira had just used.
“Are you sure?” Zoey asks, a little concerned, but Rumi nods. She wants to prove to her girls that she can do it, and maybe impress them. Zoey did say she’s a natural at this.
They make their way to the ramp, climbing up the short flight of stairs to the top, where there’s kids going down. Rumi tugs her hoodie tighter when a teenager glances at them, nudging her friends.
“Do you want to go together, me first, or you first?” Zoey whispers, leaning in close so her breath tickles Rumi’s ear, and she feels herself warm.
“I can go first,” Rumi says, proud that her voice doesn’t waver. Zoey looks at her intently, then smiles. She waves down Mira, who’s pauses nearby, getting off her board to take out her phone, giving them a thumbs up.
“Okay, so you position your board like this, since you’re on a cruiser, it should be smooth, keep your balance loose and upright, but on the way down tilt a little forward so the board doesn’t slip from under you, and if you need to stop, you can always hop off your board, or do some carving—oh and time it so you don’t accidentally hit anyone below,” Zoey explains, showing Rumi the stance. She doesn’t know what carving is, but gives her girl a nod.
“Yo, you ready?” Mira calls out, and Rumi waves. Here goes nothing, her girls are watching. She’s jumped out of a god damn plane, she can handle a ramp! Rumi tilts forward, and gasps as her stomach lurches as the sudden drop—the wind quickly rushing by her as the cruiser swoops faster than she thought.
She hears her girls cheering, and she laughs—her cruiser slams the side of another small ramp—instinct takes over, and Rumi leaps into the air, somersaulting and landing in a perfect crouch on a metal railing.
Silence.
Rumi quickly hops off the railing, glancing around at everyone in the ramp area staring at her in awe. Mira recovers first.
“Nice moves, though this is a skate park, not a trampoline park,” the dancer drawls, her phone still aimed at Rumi, who gives her a bashful grin. Immediately screams of recognition from fans and murmurs erupt around them. Grabbing her cruiser, she jogs over to her girl, lightly embarrassed.
“Sorry, I wasn’t watching where I was going,” she says, and Mira lowers her phone, giving her a quick once over.
“I wasn’t complaining, you looked good,” she smirks, turning her stunning face card into a lethal weapon, and Rumi blushes as its directed her way.
“Oh my gosh! That was so cool!” Zoey rolls over to them, hopping off her longboard.
“Do you want to stay longer?” Mira asks, looking around at more and more people taking pictures of them, many pointing not too subtly at Rumi’s patterns.
“It’s up to you two,” Rumi replies.
“Hmm, well, since Mira showed off her stuff to you, I wanna too!” Zoey says, and Rumi laughs.
“Impress me, then,” she says, and a fire is lit in the maknae’s eyes. She salutes, and speeds away on her longboard. Mira draps an arm over Rumi’s shoulder, keeping an eye of the people around them, while Rumi watches Zoey.
Like Mira, she does moves Rumi doesn’t even know one could do with a skateboard—even with her limited her knowledge—but while Mira’s movements were fierce and aggressive, staking a claim of the space around her, Zoey seems to flow like water, dancing and twirling on her longboard, weaving around the space.
Zoey gets cheers from bystanders when she finishes, rolling back over to them, where a few brave fans approach them, asking to sign their boards. Fortuntely for them, Zoey never leaves the penthouse without a sharpies, and so Rumi spends the news couple of minutes signing all sorts of skateboard equipment and taking photos.
“I love your tattoos! They’re like, so cool!”
“I’m gonna get a matching decal on my board!”
“Is there going to be HUNTR/X skateboard merch?!”
Rumi blinks as a couple fans eagerly group in front of her. Her mind is still stuck on the first comment.
“There’s always a possibility for skate merch in the future,” Mira says, slipping her arm down to settle on Rumi’s waist. Rumi’s so used to it by now that she leans into the dancer’s embrace, smiling. The teens glance at each other, eyes wide.
“Ohh! We totally should! We should have one with Derpy!’s face on it!” Zoey squeals, appearing on Rumi’s other side, stretching out her shirt to show off Tiger’s face.
“Derpy?” a fan asks.
“Yeah! Our pet ti—!”
“—Cat!” Rumi interrupts, stressing the word, and Mira snickers.
“Or we can use your face,” she drawls, and Rumi snaps her head to stare at her girl.
“What?” she gasps, ears turning read as her thoughts go a very different direction.
“You know, we’ve got our faces plastered on everything, what about the board?” Mira drawls.
“Er, well I guess, that’s true,” she says.
“Awww, unnie, don’t you want us to ri—” Zoey begins to say, grinning mischievously.
“Okay! Sorry everyone, we should head home! Thank you for your support! Good bye!” Rumi grabs her girls and drags them away, both of them laughing away from the park, leaving a trail of baffled and shocked fans behind.
— . HUNTR/DA . —
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Evelynn chuckles to herself, laying on Akali on their couch, the rouge’s arms wrapped around her, hands idly petting her lashers. Purring deep in her chest, her metal talons tapping on her screen as she scrolls through her socials. The urge to cause some chaos stirs within her, and who is she to deny herself. Besides, it’s about time that they start leaving crumbs for the fans.
She taps her lips, deliberating which app will have the most impact.
Evelynn opens her Twitter to her @Diva account, her last post promoting her fashion show—which she’s pleased to note went brilliantly. Opening a new post, she enters #OnDemonTime, and tags @Dispatch_Hunters as well as the verified @HUNTR/X account.
Posting it, she waits a few seconds, and then refreshes her page to a flood of notifications of fans going wild. Her satisfied cackle has Akali raising an eyebrow, but before the rogue can say anything, Evelynn’s leaning down to kiss her mate.
— . HUNTR/DA . —
Everyone’s gathered in the K/DA mansion this time, taking a break from working the lyrics for the first song.
“By the way, what are we going to call the collab?” Seraphine asks, sitting on the floor leaning against the couch, letting down her hair from its bun. Ahri reaches down and cards her fingers through the songstress’s long locks, the girl closing her eyes contently.
“What about ‘HUNTR/DA’?” Akali says.
“Eh,” Mira huffs, reclining in a plush chair, Zoey curled up in her lap. Rumi’s perched on the arm of the chair, reminding Mira very much like a satisfied, purple cat.
“Ooh, what about ‘Hunters Unite’?” Zoey says.
“Or ‘Demon Time’, like the hashtag? Although I’m not sure where that came from,” Kai’sa says loudly from the kitchen. Evelynn in her shadow form rests on Voidy’s pods, content to watch the tall dancer cook dinner.
“‘Legends’?” the demon offers.
“‘Rise’?” Rumi says, and there’s a moment of silence.
“That actually sounds good, ‘Legends Rise’,” Seraphine muses.
“. . . I kinda feel like that sounds like a song name, and not an album cover though. It would be cool name for the first song,” Mira says.
“What if you reverse it?” Evelynn suggests, reforming into her human shape as she moves over to drape herself over Ahri. The gumiho holds her close, a hand settling on the demon’s knees.
“Sorry? Reverse what?” Ahri asks.
“‘Rise Legends’, it sounds more iconic, like a cheer, and puts the song in the present context, than the past context with ‘Legends Rise’,” Evelynn explains.
“I like it, although it feels like it’s missing something else,” Rumi mutters.
“Oh! I got something! How about ‘Rise, Legends Never Die’!” Zoey exclaims, nearly hitting Mira in the chin as she lurches upright.
“Duuude, I dig it,” Akali grins.
“Definitely catchy,” Kai’sa agrees, and then she starts washing dishes.
“What if we wrote it like this?” Seraphine scribbles quickly on the notepad in front of her, turning it around to the rest of the group.
RISE (LEGENDS NEVER DIE)
Rumi grins at Ahri.
“I think that’s the one,” she says.
“We still need an album name,” Evelynn drawls, and everyone sighs. Back to the drawing board for names.
— . HUNTR/DA . —
Rumi’s sitting on the roof of the HUNTR/X tower, for once during the daylight, when she hears a familiar set of footsteps.
“Hey Rumi,” Zoey smiles, sitting next to her.
“Hey, Zoey,” she rests her head on her girl’s shoulder, sliding an arm around her girl’s waist.
“Whatcha doing up here?” Zoey asks.
“Just thinking about everything. Celine. My mother, my dad,” Rumi sighs. Zoey turns a little to pull Rumi into a side-hug.
“That’s okay, you can take all the time you need to process things,” her girl whispers, and they sit there in comfortable quiet, the sounds of the city drifting up to them like white noise.
“I’ve also been thinking about a song,” Rumi says, looking over to Naksan park, and she knows Zoey’s watching her attentively.
“What kind of song?” Zoey asks curiously.
Rumi releases a breath.
“Well, the core of it was about acceptance, but, I guess, it was romantic too,” she explains.
“I first sang it with Jinu, and I realize now that I was trying to connect with someone who understood me at the time. But I want to perform it, I want to sing it again,” she says, not sure if she’s getting her point across correctly. Zoey tilts her head, a little confused.
“You want to sing with Jinu again? That’s gonna be kinda hard, given, well, you know,” the maknae says, but Rumi’s shaking her head.
“No, I don’t want to sing with him, he’s dead anyway, so I can’t . . . I wanted to sing this song with you,” she says blushing, and her patterns pulse a pale orange. Zoey glances at her patterns, then cups her face, her eyes big and starry.
“You want to sing a romance song, with me?” she asks in a small voice. Rumi nods.
“I have always been thinking of one for Mira, so I can sing my love to both of you,” she says, and Zoey’s kissing her, climbing into Rumi’s lap.
Rumi’s world lights up gold and iridescent. The feel of soft lips on hers, nothing more than just pressure against hers, but it’s divine and warm and Rumi can’t think of anything except the heat of her girl’s body against hers, her breath dusting her cheeks. Her demonic hands carefully brush into black hair, sharp talons lightly dragging in the locks.
Zoey shudders, breaking apart to suck in lungfuls of air, a high pitched whine leaving her as she presses her head harder against Rumi’s claws.
“Careful, I don’t want to scratch you,” Rumi murmurs, keeping very still.
“You won’t, promise, I can take it,” Zoey gasps, and the sight of her girl in her lap, legs wrapped around Rumi’s waist, and her words does things to Rumi’s self control. Her fingers twitch, her eyes snapping to the pale, exposed neck and the “I can take it” at the fore front of her mind.
She grabs Zoey’s hips, pulling her closer, and both of them gasp when they feel the heat building between them.
“So,” her girl smiles, draping her arms over Rumi’s shoulders.
“Yeah?” she says gruffly, trying not to squeeze her girl’s hips too tightly, her talons scratching against Zoey’s short’s waistband.
“Can you sing the song?” she giggles, and Rumi has to think hard on what Zoey’s even talking about.
“Oh—um—I had called it Free, and it—um, goes like this,” Rumi stammers, losing herself in her girl’s big brown eyes.
Words! Come on! She’s knows how to sing this!
Rumi begins to sing, shaky at first, but then gaining traction the more she continues. Zoey watches her intently the entire time, even when Rumi pauses to inform her that she’s going to sing Zoey’s part.
When the last note fades into the sky, Zoey smiles like the sun at her.
“That’s beautiful, you’re beautiful,” she says earnestly, and Rumi blushes, her patterns a solid gold beacon.
“Do you wanna practice it?” she asks.
“Yeah, although, can we go inside? It’s a bit cold out here,” Zoey agrees, and Rumi frowns at that, mentally kicking herself for not realizing it earlier. Stupid demon heat resistance making her forget her girls don’t have the same thing.
Zoey squeals with laughter when Rumi sweeps her up into a bridal carry, nuzzling into Rumi’s neck as she carries them back into the penthouse.
— . HUNTR/DA . —
The album name doesn’t come from any of the K-Pop idols, rather, it comes from an unlikely source.
“So all of you are stumped on an album name?” Bobby says, watching the assembled group of women nod. They’re all piled onto HUNTR/X’s famous couch, dozens of papers strewn around them as well as copious amount of snacks and soft drinks—although he spies Evelynn sipping a glass of red liquid.
“Well, how about you all take a break, relax for a bit before coming back, I’ve always found my best ideas come when I’m not actively thinking about it!” he says cheerfully.
“What did you have in mind?” Rumi asks, stretching her arms, her patterns sparkling in the sunlight. Mira and Zoey look at each other, smiling.
“Bathhouse!” they yell, laughing.
“A bath sounds amazing right about now,” Ahri sighs.
“Hell yeah, can’t wait to scandalize the ladies with my tats,” Akali grins rakishly, only to yelp when a lasher wraps around her waist, yanking her closer to Evelynn. The demon stares at the rogue pointedly.
“Right, just you can see me naked—and the girls, and I guess now the other girls,” Akali says dutifully, and Evelynn sniffs.
“You better remember that,” she grumbles.
“Great! I’ll arrange two private rooms for you!” Bobby says happily, walking away to make a call on his phone.
“—yes, two private rooms . . . Yes, discreet please—huh?” Bobby looks up as the Honmoon suddenly pulses a sickly looking wave of brown and black. There’s a mad scramble of feet and worried gasps behind him.
“—er, change of plan, how about in a couple of hours, say five? . . . That works? Great! They’ll see you then,” he says quickly, plugging his other ear to block the shouts of his girls to hear the receptionist, turning around to see an empty room, wisps of red and black . . . Smoke? Fading into the air.
He hurries to the window, searching the Honmoon for the source of the strange ripple. Magpie and Tiger appear next to him, leaping out of the iridescent lines.
“What was that? Is the Honmoon supposed to do that?” he asks, and Magpie narrows his six eyes.
Yes and no. The Honmoon is a living thing, it alerts Hunters to the presence of malevolent demons who seek to harm the mortal realm, but this was different. I’ve never seen those colors before, but this is a new Honmoon, intrinsically tied to Rumi, so anything is possible, Magpie says.
“Wait, I think I’ve seen her patterns turn brown once, but I haven’t seen the red or black,” Bobby notes.
Rumi, Tiger says, but Bobby has no idea what he means by that.
Hm, perhaps you are right. The Iridescent Honmoon’s new colors could very well correlate to Rumi’s pattern colors. Afterall, Mira summoned the Honmoon to aid in Rumi alive, so they may be more linked than we thought, Magpie says, thinking out loud.
“Like, she’s merged with the Honmoon?” Bobby asks.
Merged, Tiger agrees.
It’s not outside the realm of possibility. Rumi’s always had a strong connection to the Honmoon through the gentle Hunter’s spirit staying to watch after her. I think, she’s on the path of convergence with the Honmoon, as it kept her alive, perhaps it’s using her own color signals to better assist the Hunters, Magpie explains.
“Will that hurt her though? This Honmoon convergence thing?” Bobby worries, and Magpie shrugs.
I doubt it, the Honmoon does not hurt its Hunters. It loves them, even through their fault and fears.
Loves! Tiger says proudly.
Bobby wrings his hands, still not quite settled.
And then—as most of his suggestions to help out his girls do—an epiphany strikes him.
“That’s it! That could be the album name! ‘Honmoon Convergence’! My girls came together to make the Iridescent Honmoon, and K/DA is here for the collab because of it too! Two groups, merging for the collab!” he jumps up and down excitedly while Magpie eyes him like he’s lost his mind.
Honmoon! Tiger grins, purring.
— . HUNTR/DA . —
The girls appear inside the Hunter’s estate, just outside the gateway to that acursed field. Rumi tenses, her breath knocked from her when she realizes that the a patch of grass is stained black with old blood—her blood. Suddenly it’s like she’s watching Celine try to kill her again, she feels it again in her chest. She’s dimly aware that her girls are holding onto her, whispering soothing things to her, their touches grounding her.
Shit, we need to cleanse this space, now, too much negative energy has happened here, Ahri hisses, her tail puffing up, glancing at Rumi—she sees that the other Hunters are expertly handling Rumi. She stalks into the field, ears on a swivel, Kai’sa right behind her. The tall dancer’s second-skin spreads over her entire body in a matter of seconds, thickening and darkening as the pods grow, turning into a full Voidling exo-suit.
“On it, cleansing rain coming up—this should help with Rumi too,” Akali says, and she takes a few steps back, mist materializing around her as she hums, a heavy fog growing in her place until a massively long Ryūjin takes to the air. Akali’s scales turn transluscent the higher she spirals, the sky already darkening as clouds start forming.
Nothing will harm you here, I swear on it, Evelynn murmurs reassuringly to Rumi before she becomes a living shadow stalking outside the estate’s walls. Seraphine stays behind with HUNTR/X, standing a respectful distance, tilting her head occisionally, tuning her senses to the souls and spiritual energy around them.
Ahri is right, this place has been desecrated, open for any sort of negative energy to take root. She glances at Rumi, the girl on the verge of a panic attack, but her soulmates are there trying to calm her down. Seraphine thinks about offering her assistance, her soul magic, but she can’t bring the words to come forth.
People may be accepting of her soul magic when they hear it, but feeling it is a different matter. Perhaps Rumi in this instance would rather prefer her soulmates to her help.
Help.
Seraphine looks over her shoulder in the direction of the whisper.
Yes, you! Help!
She was taught at a very early age not to talk to strangers, lest something terrible happen to her. And later, after meeting her girlfriends and mates, was given the run down of absolutely not listening to strange voices in her head as a soul mage. But there’s something here, and she’s going to help everyone figure out what it is.
Besides, she’s not as weak as she’s appears.
Where are you? she asks with her soul, looking around.
I’m here! I’m here! This way! A breeze picks up a few fallen leaves, twirling them along a path around the estate. Seraphine takes a breath, and follows it, the voice both cheerful and scared, calling to her.
— . HUNTR/DA . —
“Hey, there you are, just breathe for us, okay?” Mira says gently, and Rumi sucks in a shaky breath, warm rain pelting her skin.
“Y-yeah, sorry, it just—” Rumi glances to the spot.
“You don’t have to apologize for anything,” Zoey says, hugging Rumi fiercely, and then draws her in for a quick, but soothing kiss.
“Second that,” Mira says roughly, also hugging Rumi, and she smirks at Zoey.
“So, when did you make your move?” she drawls, and the maknae grins at her.
“Not too long ago, when are you do anything?” she giggles at Rumi’s bewildered expression.
“Hm, I’m thinking soon, gotta step up my game,” Mira husks in Rumi’s ear, and her body flushes. Mira chuckles, but leans away, the intense moment easing up.
“Wait, where are the others? We need to figure out what disturbed the Honmoon,” Rumi gasps, snapping back into a Hunter mindset, her girls seamlessly switching to being serious as well.
“Ahri said something about clensing, so Akali and Kai’sa are helping her. Evelynn went to checking the walls, and Seraphine—um, went somewhere?” Zoey lists off.
“Come on, let’s clear the estate house,” Rumi says, straightening, responsibility to protect her girls settling on her.
“Just don’t push yourself, please,” the Mira says, and Rumi nods.
“I won’t, promise,” she says, and then the three of them are leaping onto the estate’s high walls, weapons out as they scan the Honmoon for any sign of a tear. Meanwhile in the field Ahri is dancing with Kai’sa, her gumiho magic on display, and accompanied by the rain, flowers are starting to grow in the field.
“What do you think the colors mean?” Zoey asks.
“Hopefully nothing too bad, it didn’t seem like a demon, that would’ve been magenta,” Rumi replies, wiping the rain from her face.
“It’s still not good,” Mira grunts, scanning the horizon.
Above them, they hear a rumble of thunder accompanied by a laughing roar. At least one of them is having fun. They make their way to the house, and enter through the window of Rumi’s old nursery. Inside, the house is quiet, not a peep bar the sound of Akali’s rain pounding the roof.
The floorboards themselves are silent, but with their boots, they squeak loudly in the subdued space.
“Okay, so I know we grew up here, but this is actually kinda creepy,” Zoey whispers.
“Tell me about it,” Mira huffs just as quietly.
They all peer around a corner down a hall, the darkness looming, and look forward—each of them screaming something before groaning when they realize it’s just Seraphine.
“You scared us!” Rumi gasps, a hand over her rapidly beating heart.
“Make some fucking noise next time!” Mira growls, and Zoey just gives a weak smile.
And Seraphine . . . Says nothing?
Zoey gasps.
“Seraphine . . . Where did you get that?” she points, and Rumi flinches when she sees the homi—still crusted with her blood in the songstress’ hand. Seraphine raises the homi to her lips, licking off the old flakes, a mean smile gracing her lips.
“It called to me, doesn’t it for you?” she smiles. Rumi glances at her girls. Seraphine’s Hanguk-eo is good, it’s conversational and she can understand the language better than she can speak it. Normally, she sounds she learned straight from a standard textbook, but now, she sounds like Mira’s traditionalist halmeoni she never talks to.
“Yeahhhh, no, who are you?” Mira demands, and Seraphine’s blue eyes twinkle as she giggles, crossing her hands behind her, spinning the homi effortlessly.
“Oh, you don’t recognize me? I’m Seraphine, the Songstress! I’ve got hot mates and amazing soul magic!” she strikes an idol pose, and they level her weapons at her.
“Either you get out of her, or stop pretending to be her,” Rumi growls, and “Seraphine” sticks out her tongue.
“Boo, you’re no fun! Where’s your sense of fucking whimsy? I’m only here because of you, Rumi-nim!” “Seraphine” points at her with the homi.
Rumi straightens, eyes widening.
“What do you mean?” she asks, and her girls slowly begin to flank “Seraphine”, who’s staring at her.
“Well, because you got rid of that guilty Hunter, I was able to come in and feed off all the delicious demonic energy here! But that pesky interloper forced my hand! And now you’re trying to cleanse my new territory! And just after I dumped the interloper!” “Seraphine” cries dramatically, spreading her arms wide.
Either this demon is stupidly revealing everything or they’re confident because they have the power to back it up.
“Either way, it’s time for you to get out of my territory! Die!”
Rumi rolls out of the way as “Seraphine” lunges forward inhumanly fast, and she grunts as she blocks a lashing kick, the force sending her skidding back.
“RUMI!” Her girls cry out, and all of them leap at “Seraphine”, who’s a whirlwind of her own, her homi a deadly thing in her hands.
“Try not to kill her! She may be a possessed!” Rumi calls out, and Mira snarls wordlessly as she blocks an attack to her throat.
“Easier than it sounds!” she shouts.
“Just—stay—still!” Zoey grunts, darting around, trying to pin “Seraphine”s clothes, but the girl slaps them away with the homi. She leaps down the stairs, laughing smugly as they dash after her, their chase knocking over furniture and destroying priceless heirlooms.
“Say, is this important?” “Seraphine” coos, holding up an original copy disk of the Sunlight Sisters.
“Put that down!” Rumi roars, and “Seraphine” crackles, launching it at her. Rumi barely catches it before “Seraphine” is on her, the two of them rolling backward into the foyer.
“She hated you, you know, she would hold this beauty at night and think about killing you,” “Seraphine” whispers in Rumi’s ear as she struggles to keep the homi from cutting into her chest with her saingeom.
“Get—OFF!” In a burst of strength, Rumi shoves “Seraphine” off her, leaping to her feet, and then the world goes dark—
—and returns back to normal, Evelynn holding “Seraphine” tight in her lashers.
“Heeeeeeeeey, I was just having some fun! No interferance!” “Seraphine” growls, her arms glued to her side as the lashers tighten. Evelynn slowly lowers her shades, her demonic eyes blazing with rage.
Little Gae Dokkaebi . . . Where did you learn this form? Hmm? Evelynn purrs, her voice shaking the walls, and “Seraphine” makes an eep sound. The homi glows with light blue flames.
“Not here! I swear! She just looked pretty to fool the Hunters! Besides, the half-demon should’ve sniffed me out! It was just a harmless prank!” the Dokkaebi squeals, wincing as Evelynn constricts her lashers tighter. Rumi and her girls stare at Evelynn, who only has eyes for the other demon.
Mark my words, princess, we will be training your sense of smell next, Evelynn sneers at the Dokkaebi as she addresses Rumi. Ahri and Kai’sa crash into the foyer, hands alight with foxfire and whatever Void energy thing Kai’sa’s got going on.
“A Dokkaebi?! Seriously?!” Ahri snarls, her ears pinned in fury. Kai’sa’s still covered in her second-skin, even her face, so when she slowly looks side to side, sniffing the air, it’s unsettling.
“What’s a Dokkaebi?” Zoey asks, and Ahri marches up to “Seraphine”, hissing in her face.
YOU. DO. NOT. USE. OUR. MATE’S. FACE! the gumiho roars, and the Dokkaebi’s Seraphine disguise instantly turns into something that weirdly reminds Rumi of Tiger. It’s got a fearsome face, fangs overcrowding its mouth, wild eyes, and mouth in a permeant snarl. Its body is muscled and stocky, its skin red, with only one leg, but it’s still held fast in Evelynn’s grasp.
“Are you what set off the Honmoon?” Mira demands, leveling her gok-do at the Dokkaebi.
And where is our mate? Evelynn adds. Kai’sa growls in agreement.
That wasn’t me! I haven’t been the demonic realm in ages! I was just wandering around the mortal realm and smelled a feast here! And I only saw your soul mage for a moment when she spoke to that interloper! the Dokkaebi confesses. Mira and Zoey look at each other, confused, not understanding a word.
“What interloper?” Rumi presses, then, because in that moment she’s more attuned to her demonic senses, she feels another demonic presence. Turning around, she sees . . . Seraphine stumble through the door? Holding a mubuchae glowing with blue flame . . . Rumi remembers that weapon. Celine made her train with it for ages before she summoned her saingeom.
“Sorry I am late! I found the . . . Erm . . . What is going on?” Seraphine—the real one—asks, looking at everyone.
“I do believe they’re looking at me, my dear,” “Seraphine” says, the mubuchae’s flames dancing while it controls Seraphine.
“Another Dokkaebi?” Rumi asks, looking at Evelynn and Ahri.
“A Cham Dokkaebi,” the gumiho clarifies.
“What’s that?” Mira asks.
“It means that I’m a true Dokkaebi, not some evil dog like that house invader,” “Seraphine” scoffs, holding up the mubuchae.
You interloper! You shouldn’t have messed with the Hunter’s Honmoon! You led them right to me! the Gae Dokkaebi shrieks.
Seraphine rolls her eyes, and then looks at everyone.
“Sorry about my brother, he’s always getting into trouble. I apologize for the emotional stress he may have caused you. I explained the situation to dear Seraphine here when she found me in my cage,” “Seraphine” says.
“Trash can. He was in a trash can,” Seraphine clarifies.
I should have stuffed you in something less easy to find, the Gae Dokkaebi grumbles.
Shhhh, enough from you, Evelynn murmurs, her cold tone swiftly silencing the demon in her grasp.
“So, you mean to say you made the Honmoon react so we’d come investigate?” Zoey speaks up, and “Seraphine” nods.
“Correct. Admittedly I didn’t know this was the Hunter’s old stronghold, but after seeing the memories of this mubuchae, I knew I had to act before my brother did something even more stupid,” “Seraphine” sighs.
“This soul mage was helpful to lend me her body for the brief time it would take to stop my brother’s foolishness,” “Seraphine” finishes.
Ahri sighs, rubbing her temples.
“Seraphine, you shouldn’t let demons possess you, even decent ones,” she groans. Seraphine shrugs.
“How do we stop him?” Rumi looks from the songstress to the struggling demon.
“Oh, usually we just have to perform a cleansing ritual, but since we just did one, and with Akali’s blessed rain, all we have to do is take the weapons to the field, and release our attachments to them,” Ahri says.
“Excellent, let’s do so at once,” Evelynn snaps, and stalks away, the Gae Dokkaebi pleading falling on deaf ears. “Seraphine” gestures after Evelynn.
“Let’s go then,” “she” says, falling into step with Rumi as they walk through the messed up house to the field.
“That fan, it was in the trash?” Rumi asks quietly, and “Seraphine” looks up at her a sad smile.
“It wasn’t originally. It was in a chest in Celine’s room, she treasured it dearly,” “Seraphine” says.
“Oh,” Rumi sighs, the oh so familiar ache for recognition and acceptance creeping up on. “Seraphine” places a hand on her arm, looking down at the patterns.
“For what it’s worth, I think Ryu Mi-yeong would be proud of who you’ve become, and I can attest that from her memories in this fan,” “Seraphine” says sweetly, and Rumi’s glad they’re now outside in Akali’s rainstorm so no one can see her tears in her eyes. Her girls still come to her sides in silent support.
“Seraphine” walks to the center of the field, the blue flames on the mubuchae already dimming in the blessed rain, while the other demon howls as he steams. “She” places the fan on the ground, taking a few steps back before she sways. Kai’sa’s there when Seraphine faints, and the mubucahe’s flames dance a little higher.
Ahri begins to chant something, and everyone tactfully ignores Evelynn’s evil laugh as she squezes the Gae Dokkaebi in her hold to ash, the blue flames on the homi dramatically dimming.
“Rumi.”
She looks at Ahri.
“You must let go of the attachments you have to the items, it’s the only way to cleanse the demons from them. They cannot hurt you anymore than you let them,” the Ahri says, and Rumi senses the weight of thousands of years of wisdom in gumiho’s voice.
“Celine isn’t here anymore, that weapon isn’t hers,” Mira says, wrapping an arm around her waist.
“There’s more to your mom than her fan,” Zoey says, holding onto Rumi’s arm.
Rumi takes a breath of rainy air, and releases it.
Ahri continues to chant, and the blue flames flicker once, before extinguishing, leaving only a dull homi and a waterlogged fan in the mud, the weapons almost touching.
— . HUNTR/DA . —
Bobby is absolutely thrilled that they’re all back safe and sound, and goes into what Mira and Zoey have affectionately coined “Dad mode”, fussing that all of them are soaked to the bone. They all take turns showering and dressing comfy for the rest of the night, and since Akali’s rain set to last until morning, they cancel their bathhouse appointment.
“Look, you wanted rain, so you got it! I can’t exactly stop it when I start it, that’s not how cloud-hymns work!” Akali groans.
As they all gathered around their abandoned song notes, Bobby had then shared his suggestion.
“So, totally feel to shoot me down, but I had an idea for the album name!”
— . HUNTR/DA . —
Working with Ahri is strange and good in a new way. She’s a different kind of singer than Rumi is, but they find that their ranges work well when they harmonize. Being around her, Rumi feels calm, and Ahri admits that it’s her gumiho presence soothing Rumi’s demon side.
And because she’s calmer, her demon side seems to emerge easier.
“There’s a reason why demons and spirits often work well together, like calls to like I suppose. We’re still beings that rely on soul energy, either willignly given and shared, or taken,” Ahri says as they mess around with chords.
“Is that how you and Evelynn got together? You just knew you were the ones?” Rumi asks, and Ahri throws back her head and laughs.
“Oh, spirits, no. I hated her preverbal guts back in the day, couldn’t stand her at all. We shared the same food source, so we were constantly fighting over who could steal whatever mortal’s soul energy, who could get the seduce over some king or beautiful male or handsome female first and take their energy. Honestly, it very annoying at first, and I guess over the centuries, it became a game of sorts,” Ahri says, smiling as she remembers. Rumi stars at her in utter shock.
“It was before the Jeoson era when we were just targeting the same prey to get a rise out of the other, to see who would cave first and kill them to remove the mortal from our attention. I suppose that was her trying to court me, but, time passed on, we got closer, and here we are now,” Ahri flourishes her hand.
“Um, wow,” Rumi says.
“She definitely awakened a lot of emotions in me, that’s for sure, still does,” Ahri grins. Rumi blinks, her mind switching tracks.
“Awaken! That’s the song name!” she exclaims, and Ahri raises a brow at her, but she’s smiling.
“Hm, simple and precise. I like it, good work, Rumi,” the gumiho drawls, and Rumi smiles at her, strangely feeling proud of herself.
— . HUNTR/DA . —
Mira loves her girls, she really does, but there’s something special about dancing with someone who can match her move for move, and even push her to go higher. It’s also interesting that as the shorter one in the pair for once, she can experiment with new movements.
It was obvious to her and Kai’sa the moment they started chatting in the car from the airport that they wanted to incorporate more dance moves into their song. While brainstorming, they came down to a tango-ballet-ballroom mix of dance, accompanied by the rough draft of their song.
Kai’sa dips Mira, and she laughs, the feeling so strange being the one dipped instead of being the dipper.
“This is fun!” Kai’sa grins, straightening her up.
“Yeah, it’s gonna be a Take Over,” Mira smirks fist bumps one of Voidy’s pods—it chirps happily—at her joke while Kai’sa rolls her eyes good naturally.
— . HUNTR/DA . —
“Just to be clear, your bandmates aren’t going to like, kill me for letting you get on my bike again, right? Cos Mira still has my keys, so I can’t drive it,” Akali asks nervously, looking around the HUNTR/X tower garage as if the dancer herself will pop out around a column.
“Don’t be so paranoid, if we’re not driving it’ll be fine!” Zoey grins, hopping onto the ducati, resting her elbows on her knees.
“True, we aren’t going anywhere,” Sera agrees. The songstress is completely fine after the voluntary half-possession from the Cham Dokkaebi, although her bandmates are still hovering around her due to the fact the Dokkaebi gave Sera a gift in the form of complete fluency in Hanguk-eo. So now she’s got a slight ancient Korean accent.
“You better protect me if your girlfriend comes in her swinging,” Akali points a finger at Zoey.
“I thought you could take her, didn’t you beat her once?” Sera teases.
“Uh, she also lost once,” Zoey interjects.
“Well yeah! Of course I can take her, but I’d rather not be swinging blades next to my baby,” Akali groans.
“Anyway, what do you think about the lyrics? I’m vibing with my bit,” Akali interlaces her fingers behind her head, leaning against a column.
“I’m finished with mine, it’s a little more aggressive than I’ve done for HUNTR/X, but I think the fans will love it,” Zoey replies.
“It does sound very authentically you, which is what’s important,” Sera nods.
“What about the choreo? Don’t tell me you don’t have an idea, I saw that little gleam in your eye,” Akali smirks. Zoey smiles, raising her hands guilty.
“Yeah, you’re right. I was inspired by our joyride, and by your scene in More when you do that spin with the colored smoke, and so I thought, what if we did something similar to that?” she suggests.
“You just want an excuse to ride it,” Akali laughs, and Zoey shrugs, attempting to be nonchalant.
“Duuuude, I’m challenging Mira to a spar, and I’m so bragging that she likes my ride better than hers,” the Ryūjin host cackles.
“Then you better be prepared to get your ass beat, Kali,” Sera drawls. Zoey giggles at Akali’s betrayed look.
“And you will have to prepare for a jealous Mira,” the songstress warns, but Zoey flushes.
“I can handle her,” she says confidently.
— . HUNTR/DA . —
In retrospect, Zoey should have realized she should have told Akali to not say anything to Mira.
She was in her room with Sera, both of them watching a documentary about the life of the three-flippered Green Sea Turtle Calypso—who lived in the United States’ National Aquarium in Baltimore—oh did you know Zoey I visited once it was so cool—I wish I could have too!—when her door slams open with a BANG!
Standing in her doorway, fists clenching the door handle, is a seething Mira, gloriously sweaty, her hair tied up in a loose bun, something that usually only happens for bathhouse visits.
Sera slowly closes Zoey’s laptop, and sliding off the bed.
“I’m just . . . Gonna dip . . . Check on Akali . . . See if she’s still alive . . . yep, bye!” the songstress darts past Mira, who’s only got eyes for Zoey. And Zoey? Pinned to her bed by the fierce, predatory stare, she’s never been more turned on in her life.
There’s a tense silence, neither one breaking it.
Then, ever so slowly, Mira moves with a rigid, forced slowness, as if restraining herself from moving too aggressively. The door shuts with a soft latching noise, and it feels like someone shoots a bolt of lightning down Zoey’s spine when she sees and hears the click of the lock engaging.
“You rode her dragon?” Mira asks quietly, her blazing eyes never leaving Zoey’s.
She wets her dry mouth, staying where she is on her stomach as Mira prowls forward until she’s at the edge of Zoey’s bed, looming over her.
“Um, no?” she says breathily, and Mira places her hands—gosh have they always been that large—you know what they say about large hands—
“Zoey,” Mira growls, and it hurts to crane her neck up to look at the dancer, so Zoey rolls onto her back to look up at her soulmate. She imagines Mira doing the Spiderman kiss on her right then, and the thought has her smiling. Mira continues to stare, but Zoey can tell her willpower wavers upon seeing her smile.
“Are you jealous?” Zoey giggles, and Mira takes measured breathes, trying to calm down. Her hands clutch Zoey’s bedcover, and she glances at them, heat blooming in her. Uh huh, not happening. She wants those hands on her. She wants Mira unrestrained.
“Yes,” Mira hisses. Zoey props her knees, tilts them to the side, and traces her hands over ber body, “accidentally” pulling her up her oversized shirt up to expose her taunt belly. She stretches her hands over her head, mimicking the pose she once saw a Victoria’s Secret model do in a magazine her aunt had when she was visiting extended family in Canada during the winter holidays
“Are you going to do something about it?” she simpers, and gasps when Mira captures Zoey’s wrists, and flips her over again onto her stomach, and then all but shoves her backwards. Flopping against her pillows, she squeaks as Mira swiftly descends on her, the aggressive kiss dominating all her thoughts.
A shrill moan escapes Zoey, and Mira moves to hold both Zoey’s wrists in only one hand—god that’s hot—while the other drags down her oversized shirt, feeling down her chest to stop at her waist.
Zoey doesn’t need any prompting to wrap her legs around Mira’s hips, keening the longer the kiss continues, welcoming Mira’s conquering tongue into her mouth when it demands entrance.
The hand on her waist tightens, and Zoey’s burning inside, her hips jerking against Mira’s. Please let her bruise, please let her bruise—
She gasps for air when Mira leans away unexpectedly, a wordless whimper escaping with the dancer. Mira’s breathes are raged as well, her eyes wild, but she stares down at Zoey, lips parted.
“Tell me you didn’t touch her—that—that host!” Mira snarls, and Zoey blushes, wondering if Mira can feel hot wet she’s getting. The dancer’s fierce tone, her rough, deep voice is really doing it for her.
“I didn’t, I swear it, Mira. I’ve been saving myself for you and Rumi!” she blurts out, and Mira’s eyes widen. And it’s true too. Zoey never felt the urge to have sex young, and even when she hit high school back in the States, she wasn’t exactly swimming in options. Between being labeled an outcast, a werido, and an ugly untalented gay didn’t really make her feel like getting it on with anyone.
“You—Zoey,” Mira moans as if pained, leaning forward so their foreheads touch.
“The things you say, god,” she whines, and Zoey grins.
“That’s the Strategy,” she giggles.
Mira releases her wrists to hold Zoey’s face tenderly.
“You didn’t just name drop our song right now,” the dancer sighs, laying her weight on Zoey, and oh she never knew she wanted a weighted blanket until now. A calm blankets her mind as she’s pinned, unable to move except a couple of wiggles. She tightens her thighs around Mira’s hips, keeping her exactly where Zoey wants her to be. The intense air begins to change into a more relaxed mood.
“Sorry, I heard that you did it during your choreo practice,” she says, and Mira laughs.
“Yeah, I guess turn about fair’s play,” Mira sighs.
— . HUNTR/DA . —
“Good morning South Korea! Just in—breaking news about HUNTR/X! As you all know, they have been taking a three month hiatus, and with it halfway over, they have news for us! They have just revealed the pre-lease date of their comeback album, “Honmoon Convergence”! And that’s not all—get ready folks! It’s a collab album for K/DA’s comeback too!”
Rumi looks up from her phone to see her girls in the middle of recording their duet together. Turning around, she takes a quick selfie, and opens her Instagram. While her girls like to joke that she’s an “online halmeoni”, Rumi simply doesn’t understand the appeal of posting consistently everyday, preferring to stick to promos or teasers.
That’s not to say she doesn’t enjoy seeing Zoey post cute photos of them or something the maknae adores, she’ll like those because she loves seeing her girl happy.
Opening a new post, she tags her girls, captioning the post with “Recording in process!”, and sends it off. She turns off her phone, knowing that it’s going to blow up with reactions in seconds.
“Why don’t we do another take of the bridge?” the producer says, and her girls give a thumbs up.
— . HUNTR/DA . —
You want me to what?! Rumi gasps, and then yelps as she dodges Evelynn’s lasher slams into the red soil where she was just standing. Leaping to her feet, she raises her demonic hands, the purple coloration now reaching her arms in the demonic realm.
Bite, princess, you can do that, can’t you? the demon drawls, checking out her metal talons as her lashers attack Rumi again.
Obviously! But I can’t do that to them! My fangs would hurt them! Rumi snaps, leaping out of the way, and swiping with her talons, scoring a lasher—but the scales on them are so tough her talons don’t even make a scratch.
A little pain never hurt anyone, and I’d wager good money that they’d enjoy it too, especially your little energizer turtle, Evelynn snickers, sending both lashers after Rumi. She twists on her heel, teleporting behind the demon, talons outstretched, only to fall through the shadow illusion.
Not bad. In the mortal realm, you probably would have smelled that the me you attacked was off, but down here, illusions can be as real as death, Evelynn claps from her perch on a rock, legs crossed.
Now, tell unnie all about your fear of biting, Evelynn drawls, patting the empty space next to her. Rumi takes a deep breath of the stale air, walks over, and sits down roughly, her patterns splashing orange in random places. A year ago, if someone had told her she’d be used to breathing in the air of the demonic realm, being comfortable down here, she’d have killed them on the spot.
But look at her now.
I guess, it just doesn’t seem like a very human thing to do. Every time I think about it, I get excited, and then ashamed that I thought about it, Rumi sighs, reaching down to draw random shapes in the red dirt. A lasher wraps around her shoulders comfortingly, prompting her to continue.
And I know my girls have been dropping hints, that they’re okay with it, but, they’re human, even if empowered by the Honmoon. These fangs are for fighting demons, what if I accidentally rip their throats out? And they bleed to death? And it would be my fault! Rumi gasps out, the demonic energy around them flaring red as her voice climbs in volume.
Well, do you want to kill them?
No! Of course not! That’s what I’m trying to avoid! Rumi snaps.
Then you won’t. Simple as that. Your girls are your girls, you’ve claimed them, your demon instincts have certainly claimed them as mates, you won’t kill hurt them—barring if they ask you for more—and you certainly won’t kill them, you can’t. Would you kill yourself? Evelynn says. Rumi opens her mouth, but a lasher slaps itself around her lower face.
Actually, allow me to rephrase. Would you kill yourself if you knew it would harm your girls? Evelynn rubs her face.
Never, I’m done running for the easy way out, Rumi says firmly, and Evelynn smiles at her.
Then there you go, princess, biting problem resolved, she smirks. Rumi hums, and stares off into the distant gloom of the demonic realm. In all the times Evelynn’s brought her down here, she’s never seen another demon, although Evelynn’s said that with the Demon King’s waning power, his spawn have fled or are grouping under stronger demons fighting to become Titled demons.
You dealt the final blow to the Demon King, your slash lingers still in his dwindling form, so to the demons here, you’ve marked your prey, so even the most ambitious demons wouldn’t dare touch him, for fear of angering you. They’re waiting for you to come claim your throne, Evelynn had said on the matter.
Rumi has no intention of ruling the South Korea’s portion of the demonic realm, and given all the grief the Demon King has caused her and her girls, she’d rather just let him disappear into nothing on his own.
Could we . . . Write a song? Together? About biting? So I can properly process my feelings on it? she asks, her patterns turning more orange, and Evelynn looks at her, baffled, so much so that she lowers her magenta shades.
Why are you even asking for permission? Of course we can, what, did you think I was going to say no after all our time together?
Rumi ducks her head, not sure how to respond. The demon next to her sighs gently. A single metal talon—on the top side so the sharp point is facing down—nudges her chin up.
I’d be honored to sing with you, princess, and I’m proud of you for speaking up for yourself, Evelynn says firmly, and pulls Rumi into a hug. Rumi holds onto the older demon tightly, the age old ache of needing approval of a mentor slowly releasing in her, and she glows gold.
— . HUNTR/DA . —
Have you ever tried a full shift? Evelynn asks, reclining dangerously on the railing of Namsan Tower’s highest crows nest on the electrical spire itself, far above the official seventh floor. This late at night, Seoul’s still as alive as ever, the city a beautiful spread of stars and Iridescent Honmoon lines.
I didn’t think I could, Rumi says, looking at transformed demon hand. She’s leaning against the railing, just breathing in the crisp evening air. Evelynn laughs softly, but it’s not mean.
Oh, princess, you can do anything if you put your mind to it, she grins, her magenta shades gleaming.
About that, Rumi says, hesitating.
My father was a Demon Prince, Gwi-ma is the Demon King, and you said that I hurt him enough that the demons think I aim to claim his throne . . . Does that mean . . .” she trails off, too afraid to say it out loud. It’s been slowly making sense to her, all the clues that Evelynn has been dropping. And, if Celine knew, at least on some level how powerful a demon her father was, and his familial connections, it could also explain more of her hatred and feelings of betrayal.
Mean what? Evelynn asks calmly, waiting for Rumi. She takes a deep breath, gathering her thoughts. She always wondered why she could never hear Gwi-ma in her head, especially that night at the Idol Awards.
Her girls and Bobby had described hearing their own worst fears in their own voices—obviously spoken by Gwi-ma—breaking them down to his will. Even Jinu had called her lucky for not hearing the Demon King whispering to her constantly. She only heard him when he had to speak to her directly, face to, well, flame face.
Do you call me a ‘princess’, because I . . . Am? Rumi hedges.
Am what? Evelynn smirks, her voice light and casual, and Rumi rolls her eyes.
Am I a Demon Princess through blood? she asks cautiously, and Evelynn nods.
Rumi lets out a stuttering breath. She’s the granddaughter of the Demon King, she’s related to Gwi-ma. This is insane, how is she going to tell her girls?
The Demon King discovered you existed when you were born, and he attacked four days later, when he had the auspicious advantage, Evelynn explains, and Rumi lowers her head to her hands, her patterns pulsing red and brown.
Four was the number for death.
The Demon King wanted all the power he could to kill her, but instead her parents died.
Celine made sure to immortalize that date too, to never forget.
But why? If that was his son, why did he hate him so much? Rumi asks, and Evelynn shrugs, propping up a heel, somehow balancing perfectly on the railing while lying on her back.
He’s obsessed with power, and you posed a potential threat to it because your father split from him, your father’s rank of ‘Prince’ was changing into the rank of ‘King’. Thus, the Demon King could not control the heir of another potential King, Evelynn says.
Oh . . . And . . . Do you believe what Celine said? That he did come to help my mother? Rumi asks in a small voice, and Evelynn sits up, waiting until Rumi meets her golden eyes, her magenta shades lowered.
I do. I can count the amount of demons who have found true love with non-demons with my two hands, and rarer still a demon with a human. Your parents were special, even if perhaps fate was against them, they lived and loved each other as for the time they had each other, the Evelynn says, her words soothing Rumi.
A gentle breeze swirls around her, kissing her cheeks and playing with her braided hair. Rumi fiddles with her purple locks, remembering all the times Celine braided it, to keep it contained, controlled. Just like her demon side.
Thank you, Evelynn, she whispers, and a lasher slides over her shoulders in a silent hug.
— . HUNTR/DA . —
“I had an amazing idea!” Akali grunts as she blocks Mira’s slash with a kunai. She’s taken to dual wielding her kama and kunai now that Mira’s gotten familiar enough with her moves.
“Yeah, and what stupid idea is that?” Mira huffs, spinning her gok-do around her.
“Our song! Or potential song! It should be a fighting one!” Akali laughs, launching a cloud-hymn barrage of kunais at the dancer. Fortunately for her, she’s trained with Zoey, and knows how to block small flying projectiles.
“Oh wooow, real original,” Mira grunts, and thrusts out her hand, calling the Honmoon to her side. Iridescent liens swirl around her in a shield, blocking the magical kunai attack. She figured out that her use of summoning the Honmoon’s lines wasn’t just a fluke during one of her other spars with the rouge the first time she started using her cloud-hymn magic to cheat.
It takes a little more concentration to pull on the Honmoon itself than to summon her gok-do, but Mira’s slowly getting a hang of it.
“Oi! No Honmoon!” Akali whines.
“Then no cloud-hymns!” Mira retorts, launching her gok-do at the rouge, who vanishes in a puff of clouds, reappearing behind her—she resummons her gok-do to parry the kama attack.
“Seriously though! Think about it! I’ve got so many ideas for lyrics! I’ve written some down already!” Akali leaps backward, her body language changing as she raises her empty hands. Mira huffs, but dismisses her gok-do. The training room is practically their sparring grounds at this point, slash gouges and marks littering the space to the point that Bobby’s washed his hands of trying to repair them.
“Here, take a look, what do you think?” a poof of clouds bursts in Akali’s hands, revealing a stack of papers with honest to god the messiest scrawling excuse for letters on them. Mira takes them, and raises an impeccable eyebrow.
“What the fuck do these even say?”
The papers are snatched back from her hands, Akali scoffing at her.
“Okay! So I wrote these in an all nighter! I’ll rewrite them better! But—my running workshop name for this is Problem Child!” Akali says, noticing Mira stiffen, then relax.
“. . . We can always change it later, I’m not married to it—”
“No, keep it, I like it,” Mira smiles.
“Yeah?” Akali eyes her curiously.
“Yeah, now read it aloud, I wanna hear what you got,” she demands, and Akali smirks.
— . HUNTR/DA . —
“Hey, Evelynn.”
The demon looks up from her doom scrolling on HUNTR/X’s admittedly superior couch—not that she’d tell a soul she felt that way.
“Yes, what can I do for you, darling?” she asks, lowering her phone to look at Zoey. The maknae’s shifting on her feet, nervously fiddling with her hands behind her back. They’ve never really talked just by themselves, there’s always been someone else with them.
“How do demons handle jealously?” she asks, and Evelynn gives the girl a once over. She knew the maknae was a total freak for Rumi and Mira, almost on par with how freaky Sera is for them, but at least Sera knew not to tempt jealously with another demon.
Spirits above, Sera better not be influenced by this scheming human. Evelynn’s still not happy that her mate willingly let in a Dokkaebi into her body—the body that belongs to Evelynn.
“Badly,” she says flatly. Zoey nods, more to herself.
“So like, ‘badly’ as in ‘ah I’m gonna kill the other demon and then fuck my mate silly’?” she asks, her voice pitching high, and Evelynn can almost see the fantasy projecting from the girl’s mind, her lust filling the space.
Small mercies Rumi isn’t here to scent her mate now, the girl and Ahri out at the studio to record their song. Ever since Evelynn put Rumi through a rigourous crash course on scenting and smells, Rumi’s taken to scenting her girls as much as possible.
“Probably,” Evelynn sighs.
“And . . . Erm . . . Could you help me, with that?” Zoey asks in a false shy tone. Evelynn has to hand it to her, she knows how to get what she wants, and isn’t above emotional manipulation. Her kind usual of woman, although she feels nothing other than platonic love for this one.
“Allow me to be clear, you want to make your soulmates jealous, with the intent that they’ll want to fuck you?” she asks, and Zoey nods.
“Not too jealous, but like, enough that they’ll be paying attention only to me,” the maknae clarifies.
“Hmmm, I see,” Evelynn muses. It’s very tempting. She hasn’t personally caused that much chaos since the collab started.
“So I flirt with you a little, I can get behind that. Do you have any other ideas?” she asks, and regrets it a little when Zoey produces six notebooks full of lyrics.
“Yeah! I’ve thought of a hundred-and-six so far, but the theme I was thinking was ‘animalistic’!”
— . HUNTR/DA . —
“Wait, seriously? Really?” Zoey glances at Mira, both her girls staring at Rumi as they sit on her bed. They took the news that she’s the Demon King’s daughter so well that Rumi feels a little guilty thinking they would react differently. They merely hugged her tightly, and told her that it didn’t matter.
“Yeah, I am,” Rumi says, holding her braid and feeling the weight of it. Twin grins begin to creep onto her girls faces.
“Oh my gosh, really? I’ve always wanted to do something cool with your hair! Hold on—I need to ask Sera to borrow her combs!” Zoey squeals, running out of the room. Mira places a hand on Rumi’s knee, tilting her head to look Rumi in the eye.
“Are you sure about this?” the dancer asks, and Rumi nods.
“You know, they say that hair holds memories, good and bad. Is that why you want to cut it? To not remember?” Mira continues, insightful as ever.
“I don’t want to forget them, I just . . . I wanted to cut it as a kid when it was getting long, but Celine wouldn’t allow it, saying that I had to just work around it,” Rumi says, and looks over to the cut out picture of her mother on the wall next to her bed. Mira doesn’t even have to look. The dancer takes a carefully measured breath, releasing her tension.
“Celine was a bitch to make you into mother; you’re you, Rumi, and if you want to cut your hair, I’m all in,” Mira says fiercely, pulling Rumi into her lap and wrapping her longer frame around hers. Rumi’s patterns instantly start glowing gold as her girl’s warmth envelops her, and she relaxes against Mira’s chest, snuggling against the fluffy, oversized tiger sweater.
Wait a second.
“Is this my sweater?” Rumi starts to pull back, but Mira’s hand pushes her back against her.
“Nope,” her girl drawls, but Rumi can hear the sly grin.
“Mira! I thought Zoey took it when I did my laundry last!” Rumi exclaims, but she’s smiling too.
“I’m back! And Sera was interested in helping us since she’s cut and styled her own hair too!” Zoey bursts back into the room.
“Awwww, you two are so cute!” Sera coos, smiling happily at Rumi and Mira.
“You dye your own hair?” Mira asks, raising a brow, and Sera nods.
“Of course! Didn’t have the money to keep going back to a stylist every time the dye wore off,” Sera says as she and Zoey start producing hair products from their endlessly deep pockets.
“Oh my gosh, yes, it was so unnecessarily expensive in Burbank too! Like, I get it that we’re close to LA, but still, there’s non-celebs there too who want good hair!” Zoey adds.
“California things, am I right?” Sera grins, lightly hip checking Zoey, who grins.
“Alright, how short, and what style are we thinking?” the maknae says, turning to face Rumi, who shrugs.
“Dunno, I just wanted it short?” she says, nervously eyeing Zoey and Sera’s wickedly excited smiles.
“Girrrrrl, we are going to be here forever,” Mira groans.
— . HUNTR/DA . —
“Sooooo, I heard that you’re singing a song about biting with Evelynn,” Mira says as Rumi lets her into her room.
“Uh, hello? Yeah?” Rumi says, surprised by Mira’s line of thought.
“Well, I’m kinda bummed, ’cause I wanted to sing with you about biting too,” Mira sighs, flopping onto Rumi’s bed, staring at the ceiling, and it takes Rumi a few seconds to process that.
WHAT! she shrieks, and Mira points next to her.
“Girl, I don’t understand demon speech. Sit.”
Rumi sits next to her, then lays down. They turn to face each other, Rumi shyly looking at Mira, her patterns pulsing pale gold. Mira smirks, and Rumi huffs at her.
“Stop reading my patterns!”
“I would if you weren’t a human mood ring,” Mira laughs, and Rumi can’t help but join in. They settle into a comfortable silence, just staring at each other, memorizing each other’s faces.
“I still want to sing with you,” Mira murmurs.
“About . . . Biting?” Rumi blushes.
“Yeah, me. You biting me,” Mira says bluntly, and Rumi covers her face to hide her flush. Mira allows it for a few seconds before she gently lowers the hands covering the beautiful face.
“Is it too much?” she asks softly, and Rumi shakes her head furiously.
“No! I just, was surprised. I’d . . . I’d love to do it,” Rumi blushes again, harder. Mira smiles, and gently strokes Rumi’s face, watching the patterns flaring gold wherever she touches.
“Wanna get started?” she asks, and Rumi nods.
“So ready,” Rumi grins.
— . HUNTR/DA . —
The Sunlight Sisters company releases a statement concerning the mysterious disappearance of Celine, announcing they have a solemn update to share about the company.
A livestream opens on an average, casual Monday. During the countdown, fans and interested parties alike flood the livestream, some excited that this may be the official announcement of the collab, while some are speculating about the serious nature of the broadcast.
Then, the video goes live. It shows Rumi in the Sunlight Sisters company building sitting behind a desk—Celine’s desk—in a black suit, her hair cut short just below her ears in a choppy, “boyish” style. She’s not frowning, but she’s also not smiling like an idol. Instead, there’s a kind of sad smile gracing her face.
“Hello everyone, I’m Ryu Rumi, leader of HUNTR/X, and I have some important and sad news to share. Today, Baek Celine, my guardian, the woman who was raised me, and was like an aunt to me, has passed away due to heart cancer.
“As a very private woman, so we decided to keep her illness from the public, allowing her the dignity and happiness to spend her remaining time at home where she could be with her loved ones undisturbed.
“We knew this was coming for a while, and have made preparations to ensure that everything she’s worked for and built would not crumble when she passed on. She loved her work, and she loved music, and I . . . I’m proud of what she’s created with the Sunlight Sisters. I’m proud to carry on their legacy with HUNTR/X as the next generation,” Rumi says, her voice shaking a little at the end.
She blinks, holding in tears. Whatever her complicated feelings for Celine, she still never wished for her to die. She stares into the camera, the room heavy with thick melancholy, and unseen by her the chat is blowing up with shock and condolences.
“It’s strange right now, balancing familial ties and duty. Celine would have wanted the mourning period to be observed, as is tradition, but she also wanted HUNTR/X to continue to push ourselves to new heights. She was an active participant in signing off on the collab comeback with K/DA, and was eager to see as much as of the album’s completion as she could.
“In accordance of the Sunlight Sisters Bereavement Leave, which stipulates a total of two weeks leave upon the death of a family member, and Celine’s wishes expressed in her will, the official mourning period will cover the span of that two weeks.”
Rumi pauses to take a breath, calming her voice from the speech she memorized. Behind the camera, her girls smile encouragingly at her, and Bobby gives her at thumbs up.
“On the matter of the management of the Sunlight Sisters and their direction, I cannot say much, as those inner workings are being processed as we speak. However, I can tell you that the Board of Trustees are following Celine’s instructions for what to do in the worst case scenarios, and have reached out to Hyun Dan-bi as the official advisor on the matter of the Sunlight Sisters’ direction,” Rumi smiles gently.
“I thank all of your for the support, and love you have given the Sunlight Sisters, me, HUNTR/X, and the all the staff that work to bring music that connects us into the world. All I ask that everyone please be respectful of Celine’s privacy. The funeral will not be a public affair, just friends and family. Thank you all for your time.”
Rumi gives a parting smile with a small wave, and watches as the camera’s red blinking light cuts out. Immediately, her girls are by her side, wrapping her in a hug. Rumi doesn’t care that anyone sees her silent tears as her girls hold her, and she distantly hears Bobby urging the camera crew out of the room.
Rumi never wanted to hate Celine, she never really did. She just wished, in another life, Celine could have loved her, all of her.
— . HUNTR/DA . —
It’s quiet in the HUNTR/X tower for a few days. The fake funeral, closed casket, is swiftly organized, the guest list bigger than Rumi initially thought, but smaller than it would have been if it was made public. She feels like a ghost, an imposter, her emotions juggling between sad and apathetic.
Her girls are glued to her side, all of them wearing black suits. Mira especially looks fierce today, glaring at anyone who tries to get close to Rumi, while Zoey clings to Rumi’s arm. They’re holding the funeral at the estate, in the field, the house only open on the bottom floor—it was fixed up after the whole Dokkaebi incident.
The sky is bright and sunny, courtesy of Akali keeping the rain away today—with the caveat that the rain would come later and twice as heavy. The K/DA girls are also in attendance, but they keep to themselves, not wanting to draw attention to themselves away from everyone else mourning. Although Seraphine has to excuse herself early, Ahri going with her, overwhelmed by the depressive emotions from the mourners.
Initially, Celine was supposed to be buried in a private cemetery, but Rumi had it changed to the estate. After all, her body is actually underneath the field, it seemed strange to her to have the gravestone in a different place.
Mira stiffens, even more than she’s already been today, her hand finding Rumi’s comfortingly. Rumi and Zoey look in the direction the dancer is, eyes widening when they see her. For Rumi, it’s been years since she’s seen her, and even back then she was practically a ghost she only caught glimpses of, and for her girls this is their first time.
Hyun Dan-bi seems to appear in the funeral, standing in front of Rumi’s mother’s gravestone, dressed in a black suit jacket, grey shirt, and black slacks. She’s long since traded her signature space buns for a single braid trailing down her back, her hands clasped in front of her.
The Iridescent Honmoon curiously curls around Dan-bi, remembering her, and Rumi sees her tense as the lines dance over her. Her presence is noted, mourners going quiet when they see her, giving space for the last Sunlight Sister. She looks only once at the closed coffin, and then, she looks directly at the spot where Celine died.
Rumi stifles her gasp when Dan-bi’s sad brown eyes lock on hers.
Her girls clutch her tighter.
Dan-bi knows. Somehow, Rumi knows that Dan-bi’s aware of who killed Celine. Maybe the Honmoon told her, maybe she could just sense it. The two other parts of her soul, buried under her feet.
Instead of anger, or revenge, the woman only looks bone-weary exhausted. She looks at them, her gaze regretful, and then she leaves without a word.
— . HUNTR/DA . —
Music has always been Rumi’s escape. She can lose herself in the sounds, the lyrics, and let all her emotions out through song. It’s still no different after everything, and instead of singing to herself in her room, now she’s got her girls to harmonize with.
Her other parts of her soul, the three of them lying in her bed, coming up with corny, terribly cliche love songs that they’d probably never officially release.
— . HUNTR/DA . —
Legends never die!
Rise!
Rise!
All of them snap into their finishing poses, breathing hard, but smiling widely as the song trails off into the instrumental ending.
“Good work girls, I think this calls for a water break!” Kai’sa says, stretching her arms over her head.
“Gosh, I’m exhausted!” Zoey groans, all of them meandering to the water station in the dance studio.
“Thank Bobby for having the water already prepped,” Mira smiles, chugging from her bottle.
“I think that was our best take yet,” Akali notes.
“Yeah, it was good,” Rumi nods, for once not nitpicking herself over the minute details she thinks she’s missing. She trusts her girls, and her friends in K/DA to let her know if she may have missed something.
“Costumes are coming along as well,” Evelynn reports, her lashers flicking in a satisfied way.
“I for one am glad I can have my tail and ears out for this collab,” Ahri says, said ears flicking.
“Oh-oh! Let’s take a picture!” Sera grins, holding up her phone.
“Now? We’re all sweaty though,” Mira smirks, and Sera winks.
“All the better! Now line up in front of the mirror!” she directs, backing up so she can frame everyone. In the front row is Mira, Zoey, and Rumi, the first two sitting down, Mira arms crossed over her knees, resting her head on her arms, and Zoey crossing her legs, one hand holding onto Mira’s elbow. Rumi’s crouched slightly behind Zoey, her patterns visible for all to see in her warm up outfit, one hand resting on her knee, the other on Zoey’s shoulder.
Standing behind them is Akali, Evelynn, Kai’sa, and Ahri, the former leaning over Mira and in front of Evelynn, waving peace signs. The three older K/DA members stand nonchalantly, hands in their pockets, although Evelynn and Ahri turn themselves to pose a more around Kai’sa.
In the background, over Kai’sa’s shoulder, Sera can see herself in the mirror, the phone blocking most of her face as she too holds up a peace sign. And just as she takes the picture, Sussie and Derpy appear next to her, rising out of the Honmoon. Grinning, she quickly slaps a banner on it reading: “Finished practice 4 2day!”, and posts it on her Instagram.
It of course goes viral, especially when people notice the “dope life size stuffed animal tiger and bird”. Demands for a collab tiger plushes nearly break the HUNTR/X merch website.
— . HUNTR/DA . —
“Guysguysguysguys! The concert dates just dropped! We have to go!” Mei Lee screams, shoving her phone into one of her best friend’s; Miriam Mendelsohn; face, her Red Panda ears and tail out and proud.
“Uh, and where are we gonna get the money to fly to Seoul—during the middle of the school year?” Mei’s other best friend, Priya Mangal, states flatly, her face deadpan.
“We could always ask Tyler? I know he wants to go,” Mei suggests.
“I don’t know Meimei, his parents still have it out for you,” Miriam sighs.
“And they aren’t going to send their only teenage son alone with four teenage girls,” Pryia adds.
“Whaaaaaat? But that was two years ago! We’re good friends now!” Mei groans.
“What do you think, Abby?” Mei turns to her other best friend.
“Huh?” Abby looks up from her phone.
“Who are you texting?” Miriam asks.
“Oh, just my cousin, she lives in Seoul,” Abby sighs, and her best friends sigh with her.
“I don’t suppose your cousin could get us tickets?” Mei asks, and Pryia rolls her eyes.
“Mei, you can’t just ask that. It’s like if you had asked one of my Indian cousins to bring us to India,” she drawls.
“Yeaaah, that doesn’t sound good when you put it like that,” Miriam winces. As the token white of the group, she takes pride in using her white privilege to help support her POC besties.
Abby shrugs, but inside she’s absolutely dying with stress hiding this secret. She glances at her phone at the family chat with their cousin—really the only Noe in the family that the Parks talk to. Abby’s met her aunts and uncles from the Noe side of the family, and all of them suck ass—except for Zoey.
She’s Abby’s idol, role model, cool older cousin, and genuinely fun person to hang out with when she comes to visit during the holidays.
But she hasn’t told her best friends that her cousin is the very idol they want to meet—she’s seen online horror stories of what happens to family members of famous people, they also get targeted! She’d never make any real friends!
“I could ask—but no guarantees! She’s super busy with her work, and I’d have to ask my mom for permission too,” Abby warns.
“That’s okay, I don’t think any of our moms would allow us to go,” Miriam sighs.
“Darn, well, at least it’s going to be live streamed? We could all come to my house and watch there?” Mei offers.
Abby quickly opens her personal chat with Zoey, fingers hovering over her screen. Zoey is super busy, she wasn’t lying about that, what if she doesn’t have time or can’t even give tickets out? Well, better to ask than regret not having done so.
TheCuzzinzzzz
ImaginaryAbby: heeeeeyyyy, so ik ur super busy rn, but i wanna support ya and come to seoul to watch ya live!
NinjTurtl: OMGOMGOMG REALLY???!
ImaginaryAbby: yeah! we're figurn out tickets tho
NinjTurtl: which ones??? plane or concert or hotel??? 👀
ImaginaryAbby: ugh, all three 😭 is it possible that you could help out? 👉👈🥺 no pressure if u can't don wrry
NinjTurtl: omg!!! no its totally fine! i can help! i'll talk with bobby, he can totally get yall tickets, it's just you and yr three besties right? wht about yr mom? does she know?
ImaginaryAbby: ye me and the besties, no mom doesnt know, we just thought of it, im worried shes gonna say no 😭
NinjTurtl: dont worry! i got this, i'll tell her that im offering it! and i'll invite her too so she won't be worried about yall coming to seoul by yrselves
ImaginaryAbby: omgomgomgomgomg really??????? you will????
NinjTurtl: yeah! ofc! we r TheCuzzinzzz ™️! and i'd love to have you come see it!
ImaginaryAbby: sdfalksdfjasfhewhakjdhfjksdfh !!!!! THANK U SO MUCH!!!!!
NinjTurtl: 💚💚💚
NinjTurtl: i'll send ya all yr VIP tickets when bobby gets back to me!
ImaginaryAbby: U R THE BEST CUZ A GIRL CAN ASK FOR!
NinjTurtl: 🫰
Abby slowly looks up from her phone, staring at her three best friends chatting away about the newly coined, “HUNTR/DA” album set to release the day before the concert. She hears the pings from the family chat from Zoey saying she’s offering the tickets. One glance from her mom graciously thanking her and accepting them has her heart skipping a beat.
“Guys,” she says, the calm before the storm. They all turn to her, attentive. A slow, manic smile creeps onto her face.
“My cuz got us tickets to the HUNTR/DA collab,” she says, breathless.
“. . . What?” Pryia gasps, gobsmacked.
“You serious?” Miriam’s jaw drops.
“On 4Town’s name, deadass yes,” Abby says, and Mei poofs into her larger Red Panda form as all of them scream their lungs out, no doubt scaring anyone passing the girl’s high school restroom.
— . HUNTR/DA . —
Time sure flies when one is preparing for one of the largest concerts of their lives. Due to the sheer size of the predicted crowds, the Sunlight Sisters company and the K/DA company rents out the Seoul Olympic Stadium in the Songpa District of South Korea. After permits and papers and money changing hands, the stage is being constructed in a matter of days.
Everyone who’s anyone important to both idol groups and management are there supervising, and a large group of people are following the lead project manager around as she describes the concert details. Bobby and Taric are the two people she’s primarily speaking to, but there’s other managers, advisors, assistants, tech engineers, proxies, and even sponsors.
Amazingly enough, there were rumors flying about that the infamous Mel Medarda is there with her hulking bodyguard of a woman who famously lost an arm saving Ms. Medarda’s life. There’s even hearsay that the great and powerful Aurelion Sol was spotted inspecting the VIP box with his daughter that is chaos trapped in the body of a tween girl.
Bobby gets a ping on his phone from his girls, and he squeaks in surprise, drawing all the attention to him.
“The girls are here to test out their vocals!” he exclaims, and right on cue, HUNTR/X slip into the stadium, practically everyone—construction workers, security, and other staff—pauses when Zoey’s shrill, excited scream echoes around the Dome. The energetic maknae runs around the field, making strange bird noises as Mira and Rumi enter a little more dignified.
Bobby excuses himself, and makes his way over to him, producing a water bottle from his coat to hand to Zoey as she runs past.
“Hey Bobby, sorry for crashing the scene, but we really had to get out of the penthouse,” Rumi says, but he waves her off.
“No I understand, with everything that’s happened,” he smiles, and Rumi smiles back.
“We’re just doing voice warm ups, nothing like a song,” Mira adds.
“Don’t worry, we’ll stay out of your way,” Rumi says, ushering him back to the group of people he was just with.
“Okay, if you’re sure, and by the way, love the haircut!” he shoots her two finger guns before he hustles back.
Rumi glances at Mira, watching as Zoey runs back to them, practically jumping around them.
“Ohmygoshohmygosh! This is so big! I can hear echoes! ECHO!” she yells, listening to her voice bounce off the walls and ceiling of the Dome.
“It will be open the night of the concert, right?” Mira asks, looking up.
“Should be, I specifically requested that,” Rumi replies, looking out at the thousands of seats. She’s always surprised just how big the stadium is, with two tiers of seats, and the huge open field, half of which the stage will cover.
“Ready to practice some warmups?” she asks, and Mira nods while Zoey gives her a thumbs up.
Rumi opens her mouth, letting out some testing notes, and the Iridescent Honmoon reacts, singing back to her, her voice growing in power as it fills the Dome, and Mira and Zoey see Rumi’s voice touch every soul in the vicinity.
— . HUNTR/DA . —
It’s just about time.
“Where are my stylists?! My girls should be in make up already yesterday!” Bobby shouts, clutching an iPad, jabbing his finger at the group, and they run to the group of artists waiting by their stations.
“Hey you! Yes, you! I want a table of water over there immediately!”
Two men salute him and run off.
“Where’s the light check?! Good?”
Multiple, massive LED lights flicker on, and a light technician gives him a thumbs up.
“Good! Sound check? Good! Great! People! In your places!” Bobby directs, placing his hands on his hips.
“Ack! Where’s the pit crew?! Are they in their spots?! How was the mechanics check?! No malfunctions?! Good—ack! The VIPs! Where’s my VIP catering team?!” he rushes off, the roar of the crowd of thousands filling all corners of the backstage areas.
In a large dressing room, in their costumes, various versions of crop tops with sleeveless jackets and leather skirts, Mira and Zoey keep still as the makeup artists finish applying the last coats of waterproof makeup before stepping back.
“These look so cool! We look like you Rumi!” Zoey squeals, posing in the mirror as she admires her sparkling blue-purple lighting patterns.
“We look dope,” Mira agrees, putting her hands on her hips as she tilts her head, allowing her red patterns to sparkle in the light.
Rumi’s staring at them, eyes wide, and she realizes she may have a thing for the patterns on her girls. On the other side of the room, Akali’s flexing in the mirror, showing off her tattoos.
“Finally! I hate not getting to show these bad boys off!” she grins.
“And we all match,” Evelynn purrs, leaning onto the rouge’s shoulder, her cloud-painted stomach and back accenting her curves.
“It kinda tickles,” Sera giggles as the artist working on her finishes the last clouds on her arm.
“We’ve on in twenty minutes, that’s plenty of time for the paint to set,” Ahri says.
“You know, this kinda makes me want to get cloud tattoos,” Sera muses, and Akali grins.
“Dude! You totally should!”
“Perhaps think on it more after the concert,” Kai’sa advices.
“Ohhh! That’s such a good idea! Pattern tattoos!” Zoey exclaims.
“Have you ever gotten a tattoo before?” Mira drawls, and Rumi has to look away at the thought of the patterns on her girls being permanent. Like her personal claim on them, visible for all to see that they’re hers. She accidentally catches Evelynn’s eye, and the demon smirks knowingly at her.
A knock on the door quiets the room, Taric opens the door, ducking his head around the top of the doorframe to enter.
“Ten minutes till curtain, time to get all of you mic’d up,” he says, looking distinctly frazzled. Not uncommon right before a concert, however, his distress looks distinctly different.
“Taric? What’s—” Ahri starts to say, but the source of his stress barrels into the room, planting herself before all of them, hands on her hips.
“HEEEEEEEYYYYY! Oh my god! Like! This is so crazy amazing—THIS COLLAB! EEEEEK! I’M SO EXCITED TO SEE ALL OF YOU PERFORM! Daddy is also super impressed too even if he doesn’t show it!” the whirlwind of orange, pink, and purple chaos shrieks.
Rumi and her girls stare wide eyed at her, while Ahri merely sighs.
“Hi Zoe, it’s been a while, you look taller,” she opens her arms, and the tween girl runs into the Gumiho’s embrace, confusing Zoey.
“Girls, this is Zoe Sol, daughter of K/DA’s company owner,” Evelynn explains. Zoe whips her head over to Rumi and her girls, and then she’s jumping up and down around them. Mira can barely keep track of her erratic movements, and Rumi’s trying not to get overstimulated as Zoe fires off question after question interspaced with comments in lingo she doesn’t understand.
“Are all Zoey’s energy incarnate?” Mira huffs, watching as Zoe takes Zoey’s hands with a wide smile.
“You’re my favorite—no offense—cos we share the same name! Well, you have a ‘y’ and I don’t—BUT ISN’T THAT SO COOL?!” Zoe shrieks, and Zoey laughs.
“Yeah! It is! I haven’t met a lot of Zoe’s,” she says.
“It’s fate that we met! Wanna make friendship bracelets with me?!”
“Miss Sol, Zoey is set to perform,” Taric sighs, reminding his young charge.
“Oh—right! Then during the after party! I left my threads with Daddy—so I’ll totally be ready!” Zoe keeps bouncing, her energy endless.
“Hey, where’s the girls—oh, hi Miss Sol! You should be with your Dad, here, I’ll take you,” Bobby pops his head in, and Zoe immediately skips over to him.
“Okay Bobby!” she giggles, and follows him.
“How does he get her to actually listen to him?” Taric groans.
“Probably because she can’t get away with threatening to fire or torture him,” Akali snickers. He gives her a mild glare, but doesn’t refute her statement.
“Fire?” Rumi asks.
“Torture?” Mira mutters.
“Anyway! Mics, then places!” Taric says loudly.
— . HUNTR/DA . —
The Stadium is packed to full, all sixty-nine-thousand-nine-hundred-fifty fans fill the two tiers of seats, seven-thousand-five-hundred fans in the field, six-hundred official stadium managerial staff and security, two-hundred stage crewhands, forty VIPs, and dozens of news crews. There’s roughly seventy-eight-thousand-three-hundred-twenty people in the crowd.
Rumi glances at her girls, and they come together, holding onto each other to calm themselves in their pre-concert tradition.
“For the fans,” she says.
“For the Honmoon,” Zoey says.
“For us,” Mira finishes.
“Mic’s hot and live people!” A technician announces, and Rumi and her girls split to wait on their platforms. She hears the starting music, and Zoey and Akali’s platforms rise.
“This is everything,
The come back,
Zoey—” her girl croons.
“The world alive,
It’s Akali by the way,
Let’s get it!” Akali shouts.
She takes a breath, and in a burst of red smoke, she teleports onto stage—the crowd howls, the spotlights shining on her.
“Legends never die,
Even when the world is callin you,
Can you hear them screaming out your name?” she sings, spreading her arms, her patterns glowing gold as she watches the Iridescent Honmoon pulse vibrantly with a myriad of bright colors.
Ahri saunters onto stage through her spirit rift.
“Welcome to the wild no,
Heroes or villains,
Welcome to the war we’ve only begun!” she sings, summoning an Essence sphere to play with. Mira’s already leaning against her gok-do wedged into a special divet made in the stage when the spotlights focus on her.
“So pick up your weapon and face it,
There’s blood on the crown,
Go and take it,” she smirks, swinging her gok-do around her flashily as Zoey skips over to her. Evelynn materializes from her shadows behind Akali, the rouge posing as the demon leans on her shoulder.
“You get one shot,
To make it out alive,
When everything’s cold and the fighting’s near,” she sings, her lashers rising around her and Akali. Kai’sa walks down a set of stairs as the spotlights highlight her.
“It’s deep in their bones,
They’ll ride into smoke when the fire is fierce,”
And finally, Sera descends from sky on a floating platform with its own special speakers, adding her high notes as everyone sings:
“Oh pick yourself up cause—
Legends never die!”
— . HUNTR/DA . —
Dan-bi cries when the opening number starts. The album, Honmoon Convergence, dropped the day before the concert, but she hasn’t listened to them, wanting to experience the songs first live.
Rise, legends never die!
Her mind, as always nowadays, drifts to the missing parts of her soul. Mi-yeong, the earth and tree who grounded them in reality when stardom felt sometimes too much. Celine, who always reached for those stars, pulling them to greater and greater heights, achieving the Golden Honmoon was her dream.
And who was she to them? The insightful one? The intuitive one? The empath? The bridge between earth and sky when things got tough, when things didn’t go just right? She was the link, perhaps, binding them all together, keeping them sane when their personalities sometimes clashed. Celine, the headstrong, brash woman who was the strongest Hunter, and Mi-yeong, the gentle touch, the loving woman who pitied demons from the start.
And Dan-bi? She just loved them, being beside them. She loved that they found a deep love with each other, she never felt left out because they never left her . . .
These days, she only has her thoughts and the memories for company. She barely remembers living after Mi-yeong was killed, after she felt and saw Celine, their blazing star, snuff out the soul who was the best of them. Yes, she had been separated by the hoard of demons, but she was a Hunter, and with her chul yeon-chu, she carved a path back to her other parts of her soul.
Only to be betrayed by the one she loved.
She knows Celine never knew that she knew. Celine looked directly into Dan-bi’s eyes, blood still covering her front, and lied about Mi-yeong’s no-so-secret demon lover. She lied when she said that if Dan-bi hadn’t gotten separated, then maybe Mi-yeong may still be alive. And while she knew the lies, she also felt that there was some truth in them.
Dan-bi couldn’t look at herself, she couldn’t stand to be in the presence of the killer of a part of their soul, and she couldn’t look at Mi-yeong’s gravestone.
She felt hollow inside, where not even the Honmoon could reach her. She barely acknowledged the child, the daughter, the beautiful girl Mi-yeong left behind, afraid that the girl would see her faults, the hollowness inside her.
So after the Honmoon chose three new Hunters, the day she lost her beloved chul yeon-chu, she left, fleeing to extended family in China. And there she stayed, silently haunting her family’s courtyard, weighed down by the ghost of their third. Her family rallied around her, keeping her alive, and every night, her wàipó would sing to her softly in Mandarin.
She still kept up on the lives of little Rumi and Celine, even though every bit of news hurt her like a knife in the heart. Watching Rumi grow up strong and beautiful just like her mother, Dan-bi wondered if she was Celine’s apology to Mi-yeong, raising her daughter with love and care.
Dan-bi watched throughout the years of HUNTR/X’s success, seeing the love blossom between the new Hunters, and her heart aches with pride for them. They were better than the Sunlight Sisters, this she could tell. Rumi was strong, Mira was fierce, and Zoey was cunning, and their singing to the Honmoon touches the hollow part of her that she thought was impenetrable.
She looks down, and sees the blue of her soul warming in her chest.
The next in song in queue starts, the girls quickly switching costumes as the lights dim.
She brings herself to the present, crossing her legs. Up here in the VIP booth, she has a perfect view of the performance, and of the Honmoon dancing to the songs. While she can’t access it anymore, she’s still blessed enough to see its iridescent lines, a color that she finds she likes more than the strict adherence of golden.
She had been afraid for a moment when she saw it tear into magenta, watching the Idol Awards, but knew that HUNTR/X would overcome this challenge. There was something about them that the Sunlight Sisters lacked, something that Dan-bi had faith in.
She hears screams from the four teenage girls clinging to the railing, waving the HUNTR/X light sticks, one of the girl’s mother watching them intently. Some young intern had nervously informed her that one of the girls was Zoey’s younger cousin who brought her best friends. Interestingly, Dan-bi can see a faint spiritual outline of a Red Panda spirit around the redhead girl. Ah, a host then.
Dan-bi watches the entire concert, her eyes never completely dry as hit number after hit number plays, the idols on stage almost feeding off the energy of the crowd in their performances. She knows the Gumiho and full demon are probably doing so, but it’s harmless.
When the finale music blasts, each girl hitting their finishing move, the screams of the crowd reach a crescendo, ringing out all over Seoul. An attentive intern politely hands her a handkerchief, and she takes it, dabbing her eyes. She’s not used to the sharp precision of the catering staff, but she recognizes Celine’s cutting training for perfection when she sees it.
She looks around her at the Sunlight Sister employees, all of them more nervous about disturbing her than enjoying the atmosphere. The Board of Trustees must have told them to be on their best behavior around her.
Their letter to inviting her to accept the CEO position currently sits on her hotel table, ignored for the time being. She hasn’t decided yet, citing that she’d tell them after the concert.
Dan-bi stands up, and notices gazes shift in her direction. The teenage girls pause, and all of them sharply gasp when they see her. The last Sunlight Sister. The girls on stage are joking around and having fun on stage, entertaining fans as the concert winds down, teasing about an encore, when she hears—
“And I just wanted to take brief a moment of your time, to thank the Sunlight Sisters for supporting HUNTR/X, I’ll never forget it as long as I live,” Rumi says, and there’s a brief spell of calm as spotlights turn to the VIP box, blinding Dan-bi. A roar of applause and cheers from the crowd rise, and there’s an undertone of grief in it too.
Dan-bi gives a small smile, waving.
“I would like to see Rumi tomorrow morning at this address,” she says to the intern next to her, who nods, rapidly texting in her phone.
— . HUNTR/DA . —
Stepping off the stage into Bobby’s carefully controlled chaos has Rumi feeling like she’s dreaming. Her girls are next to her along with dozens of people around her—someone takes off her jacket—another replaces it with a fluffy robe—a straw is offered—she drinks the water greedily—her hand is taken as a nail stylist inspects them—and all the while Bobby is excitedly chattering on.
“—and I know you girls usually go to the bathhouse after concerts, but this isssss an afterparty that’s being held to celebrate the collab’s success! K/DA’s already said they’re going, I know the company owners will be there, and basically all the VIPs, but it’s totally up to you girls, ’cos I can toally let them know you’re tired!” he grins.
Rumi looks at her girls.
“Do you want to?” she asks, and Mira smirks.
“Huh. Sure, why not? It might be fun,” the dancer says.
“Oh my gosh! Party time!” Zoey shouts, and Rumi nods.
“We’re in,” she tells Bobby, and he’s tapping away on his phone.
— . HUNTR/DA . —
Admittedly, Rumi may have drunk too much wine during the party. Everyone was in high spirits, laughter and jokes and little hand foods flowing constantly. She was always touching one of her girls, either a hand on a shoulder, an arm around the waist, or just holding hands, keeping herself grounded in their presence.
At one point, Zoey and Akali had an impromptu rap battle in a mix of Korean and English. Rumi met Zoey’s younger cousin and her best friends—one of whom turned out to be a Red Panda spirit host—Ahri took the girl aside to talk to her about her being a host.
Evelynn made a full grown man cry for some reason, although if Rumi knew the reason it would be justifiable. She thinks she was swaying when she shook hands with Mr. Sol, whose rigid no-nonsense expression only softened when his daughter came around to take pictures with her and her girls. She even met Kai’sa’s father, who was openly crying proud tears and hugging Kai’sa.
At another point Mira had to pull her to the side and forced some water into her because her patterns were mimicking the Honmoon’s kaleidoscope flashes and it was harder to explain away the shifting colors as just reflective body paint in the party room.
Sera wound up talking animatedly to a senior music producer with a massive resting bitch face and massive muscles. Rumi heard from someone that the older woman was known for making idols quit on the spot, but Sera seemed to be making a friend of her.
Near the end of the party, everyone was dancing, and Rumi found herself grinding against Mira while Zoey pressed against her front. It was just her and her girls in their own world, limbs moving to the beats, Iridescent Honmoon thrumming happily above them.
Of course, when Rumi was finally stress free—yes with the help of some alcohol—Bobby had hurried over to tell her that she had an important meeting the next morning with the last Sunlight Sister.
— . HUNTR/DA . —
Dan-bi’s waiting outside the old Hunter’s estate next to the gate. A car rolls up the road, stopping, and she can see Mira driving, Rumi in the passenger seat, and Zoey now doubt in the back.
Her breath catches as Rumi steps out. They stare at each other, and as Rumi slowly approaches, dressed in casual, comfy clothes her pale patterns lighting up orange in spots. Dan-bi takes the time to observe her, slowly smiling. She’s a beautiful blend of her mother, and whoever her father was, her cropped hair giving her an identity of her own.
Dan-bi only stayed at the afterparty for an hour, and had witnessed Rumi enjoy herself with the other Hunters. It reminded her of the old days with Mi-yeong and Celine when they were trainees under their Hunter mentor.
Rumi can’t meet her eyes, ducking her gaze as she holds herself impossibly still. Dan-bi looks at her, and she sees Celine’s rigid ambition tempered by self doubt.
“You two can come if you like,” she raises her voice, looking at Mira. The dancer’s eyes widen, and she quickly parks the car, she and Zoey hopping out. They quickly flank Rumi, and Dan-bi realizes she’s only a little taller than Zoey. Looking at the Hunters, she smiles again.
“Hello, we’ve never been introduced officially. I’m Hyun Dan-bi,” she says, shaking their hands. Rumi subtly flinches when Dan-bi touches her skin, her patterns flaring red, and the other Hunters link their arms in hers.
“Follow me,” Dan-bi says, leading them to the field where a large tree overlooks. Pausing to bow to the two gravestones side by side, she reaches the base of the tree. Turning around, she sees three identical confused faces, and it brings a laugh out of her.
“What are you standing there for? Don’t tell me you’ve never climbed this tree?” she teases, and they share glances.
“We weren’t allowed to?” Zoey says, almost phrasing it as a question.
“Well, there’s no one to tell you no,” Dan-bi drawls, and hauls herself up the familiar path, the grooves of the tree known to her. She hears them shuffle after her, and she climbs as high as she dares, settling in her old spot facing the south.
It may be fate, or some sort of intuition, but Rumi claims her mother’s old spot, facing the east. Mira ends up taking Celine’s old spot facing the west, and Zoey finds a new spot facing the north. They’re all closely bunched together, their legs touching.
Dan-bi closes her eyes, feeling the tree calmly swaying in the wind. It has been windier up here than she remembers, but it’s a gentle wind, brushing against her face like a welcoming caress.
“So, what did you want to talk about?” Mira asks.
“We would sit up here sometimes to relax, it was our spot, when being an idol and a Hunter got too much,” Dan-bi replies instead, memories of the good days flashing through her mind.
“I liked it here, Celine would always complain about getting leaves in her hair, even if she loved nature, but Mi-yeong, she never felt more at home than singing in a tree,” she chuckles, opening her eyes to look at Rumi.
“I . . .” she glances over to where Celine’s body truly is, the Iridescent Honmoon whispering the truth to her in Mi-yeong’s voice.
“I gather that Celine perhaps . . . Became consumed in her grief, which is no state of mind to raise a child,” she says, reaching out a hand to rest on Rumi’s knee.
“I also know, that I wasn’t the best to raise a child either, even if I could have. I’m sorry that I left, but I felt that I would have done more harm than good if I stayed,” she apologizes, and Rumi places her hands on Dan-bi’s, tears shining in her eyes.
“It’s okay, I forgive you,” she says, her patterns pulsing brown.
“I don’t forgive myself. We could pass or claim the blame for the situation we found ourselves in, but in reality, no one makes good choices while grieving the loss beloved, esspecially the loss of part of their soul,” Dan-bi sighs regretfully.
“I’m not here to ask about how Celine raised you, rather, I’m here to open the floor for you to inquire questions about me, or your mother,” she says.
“What do you mean?” Rumi asks, her voice wavering. Her fellow Hunters reach to hold her hands.
“Anything you want to know, I’ll tell you. I don’t know how much Celine told you already, but I’m sure I’ve got some stories you’ll love,” Dan-bi says.
“Nothing, that cunt told her nothing,” Mira spits out, and Dan-bi hums thoughtfully, seeing Zoey’s nervous glance between Mira and her.
“In that case, I suppose I can start with the song that’s been passed down through the Hunters. Celine must have told you this, but she always preferred the first stanza,” Dan-bi watches the Hunters look at her confused.
“There’s more than one stanza to the Hunter’s creed?” Rumi asks. Dan-bi raises a brow.
“‘Hunter’s creed’? Is that what she called it? Also, yes, there is, and it’s no creed, but a song similar to an arirang. Ahem, pardon my voice, I haven’t sang in a while,” she smiles, and then begins to sing in the major scale.
“We are hunters, voices strong,
Slaying demons with our song!
Fix the world and make it right,
When darkness finally meets the light!
Through the ashes, we will rise,
Fire burning in our eyes!
Bound by courage, hearts ignite,
We stand as one, prepared to fight!
In the silence, hear our cry,
Echoed deep across the sky!
Hope is forged in battle’s might,
We’ll never break, we take to flight!
We are hunters, through the storm,
Shaping fate in every form!
With our voices fierce and bright,
We chase the dawn and claim the night!”