Work Text:
"Ohmygod I haven't seen one of these in ages!"
Zoey's squeal prompts Rumi and Mira to pause and glance at each other before making their way across the attic. They're meant to be helping clear out the attic of the main building in the compound to prepare for some unexpected roof repairs but of course, trust their beloved maknae to find some kind of distraction - and a dusty one at that.
"A VCR?" Mira raises an eyebrow as Rumi coughs from the cloud raised from Zoey's energetic 'cleaning' technique of blowing all the dust into the air.
"And VHS tapes!" Zoey all but tosses the VCR to Rumi -who squawks in surprise but catches it at the last minute- as she excitedly picks up the box next to her. "Loads of them!"
Mira hums as she peers into the box, stepping aside to make space for Rumi to nudge in at her side. Many of the tapes are labeled perfunctionally with dates. But some of them have small notes as well.
"Rumi's first recital," Mira reads aloud, a smirk curling around her lips as she realizes exactly what they've found.
Rumi pales. "Oh no."
Zoey crows. "Oh yes!" She spins in a circle, though it does nothing to bleed off her excitement. "We're watching these now, come on!"
They pile into the living room, Celine still in her office on an urgent work call, and figure out how to set things up without even breaking anything. (Mira, surprisingly, is the most knowledgeable of the three: "My brother liked video games," she'd shrugged as she worked through a tangle of wires and adaptors connecting the TV to the VCR.)
The recital video is exactly that: Rumi, no older than five years old, wearing a dress that seems more ribbon than fabric, steps onto the stage with a seriousness that immediately makes Zoey and Mira break out into giggles. Rumi groans and tries to grab the remote control but Mira holds it out of reach while Zoey forces her to stay in place between them as they watch her younger self bow and sit at the piano bench with perfect posture.
Rumi's performance is also perfect: her little hands flying across the keys, notes crisp, phrasing smooth, dynamics so clearly denoted that every pianissimo has them eagerly leaning in, then grinning widely at every forte.
When Rumi finishes, her expression as serious as when she began, the angle of the video shifts higher and a loud "Bravo!" sounds from behind the camera. On stage, Rumi's eyes snap toward the camera and for a brief moment, her whole countenance changes -eyes bright, smile wide- before she straightens and takes her bow, leaving the stage to a loud applause.
They watch several more videos labeled with Rumi's name despite her grumblings - "first beach trip" features a top-knotted 3-year-old Rumi splashing happily in the waves; "first song" has 6-year-old Rumi proudly singing a song about ladybugs and flowers as she accompanies herself on a guitar; "first proper croissant" shows more croissant flakes than Rumi, cheeks puffed with the Eiffel Tower in the distance as she eats croissant after croissant- before they stumble upon a video featuring the Sunlight Sisters.
Zoey immediately pauses at the first glimpse of Celine standing next to a certain woman's profile - barely visible at the edge of the screen but already recognizable. It takes a long moment for Rumi to tear her eyes from the TV, to realize that Zoey and Mira are waiting for her okay to keep going. She glances back at the screen. Listens to insistent tug in her heart and nods.
It's odd, seeing them like this - not the Sunlight Sisters but Celine, Hana, and Miyeong. Young, no older than Rumi, Mira, and Zoey are now; laughing, singing, eating. Happy. Together. Alive.
There's rehearsals for music shows, outings during overseas trips, shenanigans in the company van - through every scene, Rumi's eyes never leave her mother's face. Hardly blinks whenever she's on screen, nearly stops breathing whenever she speaks; takes her in with everything she has.
It's Rumi who finds the video tape labeled 'To the next.' She shows it to the others, who shrug and simply pass each other snacks as Rumi inserts the tape into the slot. She sighs quietly when two pairs of hands pull her back into the warm spot between them; where she belongs.
For a moment, the screen just shows an empty room. It's faintly familiar but before Rumi can place it, Miyeong steps into the frame. She sits down and looks into the camera. Smiles, sadly.
"I'm sorry I don't know your names," she begins, "I've only had dreams of you two, meeting Rumi, singing with her." Her smile grows sadder still. "I'm sure the three of you sound beautiful together."
Rumi feels everything both distantly and sharply: Mira's stillness at her side, Zoey's gasp and the tightening of her hands on Rumi's arm; her own pounding heart.
This Miyeong is the one Rumi's most familiar with - it's the face on the last of the Sunlight Sisters' promotional materials, the voice on their last CD, the one Celine had played the least but Rumi had listened to almost everyday when she was a child. Still, it's eerie to see that face, to hear that voice directed at them.
"Celine says I shouldn't put so much stock in my dreams," Miyeong continues, her tone equal parts fond and exasperated. "I'd like to think it's being practical. Hope for the best and prepare for the worst and all that. And if I really don't get to meet you two, I at least want to say this.
"Thank you."
Zoey's breath shudders wetly against Rumi's neck at the same time Mira breaks. Rumi blinks back her own burning tears as she does her best to hold them both as tight as she can.
On screen, Miyeong's face softens. "Thank you for being there where I couldn't," she says, a mother who knows too much of death and too little of life - her own and the life born from her. "Thank you for loving her, for making her happy. She always is, in my dreams. I'm so glad she gets to have you two at her side."
An expression breaks over Miyeong's face - too fast for Rumi to name before her features settle into an entreaty. "Please don't ever let her forget how easy it is to love her. That she's deserving of love. All of her." She holds their gaze, the silence a cord that ties them all together. "I know it's a bit much for a woman you've never met to be this demanding. But I think you two understand." Nods as she looks directly into the camera. "I know you do."
Rumi feels twin nods beside her, is about to turn to wipe their tears when a soft cry from off-screen grabs her attention - and Miyeong's as well. The way Miyeong's attention shifts is instantaneous, the way her face transforms completely - and Rumi can't help but think: She has a beautiful smile.
The smile stays whole as Miyeong turns back to the camera. "Rumi-yah," she says; and it's Rumi's turn to be held in place, for her lungs to negotiate space with her heart. She knows this voice and yet she doesn't - not in this way, not wrapped around her name.
Miyeong's bottom lip trembles the same as Rumi's does now. "I'm sorry," her mother says, helpless even as she tries to smile. "I love you so much. I hope you know that. And I hope you know that it's okay to be scared - love is scary. But that's because we're not meant to carry it alone. It's meant to be shared. And you have so many people to share it with." The edge of her mouth curls a bit. "Especially with Celine, who is probably watching from behind you like she always does -"
The girls turn at the wet laugh behind them. And there as predicted is Celine, standing behind them at the doorway, tears streaming down her face.
A sigh draws their focus back to the screen. A myriad of emotions play out all at once on Miyeong's face. "Celine," she breathes, and it's as if time and space and screens and death have all suspended their rules. Miyeong smiles, tremulous. "Thank you." She laughs suddenlly just as a tear escapes from the corner of her eyes. "Stop shaking your head, you stubborn thing. You deserve it all too."
Then Miyeong's eyes shift around the screen, as if taking them all in. Her shoulders lift into a deep breath and Rumi knows: this is goodbye. She feels the girls hold tight onto her as she stares into the eyes she's memorized, listens breathlessly to a voice that will never grow old. "Until we meet again," Miyeong says - a promise, a fact.
And that's that. The video cuts out without fanfare; the tape stops in the machine.
Rumi sniffles, slowly detangles herself from Zoey and Mira; stands. She goes straight into Celine's open arms. It takes but a moment until she's surrounded by two other pairs of arms.
There's nothing to say. So they simply hold each other and sway, breathing together in time to the solemn four-count measures of those left behind.