Chapter Text
The sun might as well not have risen; it looked like night still ruled the sky. The clouds were indigo, towering high above the island, while winds tore and howled through the trees. Pine needles flew through the air as abundantly as the rain that soaked everything. Lightning cracked with the frequency of a heartbeat, highlighting the crouched girl screaming at a headstone like it could yell back.
“Why?! Why have me?!” Rumi roared, blood dripping from her fangs, cuts burning along her lips. The patterns on her body pulsed a ferocious magenta with cores of bruising purple. Glowing purple horns grew from her forehead as she collapsed to the ground, punching the earth in front of the headstone. “No one can love me, not even Celine!”
Lightning flashed just down the trail, a fir tree groaning as its core crumbled before it slammed into the earth, yet Rumi didn’t budge from her bow, instead leaned down until her forehead touched the damp earth. “I can’t handle this!”
The honmoon hummed to life, the beautiful blue strings flowing around her like water, tugging at her sides like it was scolding her for being out in the storm.
Rumi cried, tears burning tracks down her face, voice trembling, “I can’t go back to that hanok; she can’t even look at me.”
The horns pulsed with magenta before dimming to a harsh royal purple against her pale skin. They were easily 6 inches in length and shooting straight up. A tail taped against her thigh, the patterns that haunted her glowed on it. A wet chuckle escaped Rumi as her claws pressed into the earth. “With a tail and horns, Eomma, I might as well join you.”
“Don’t say that.” The voice was barely louder than the wind, Rumi's demonic hearing being the only reason she could pick it up. Turning, Rumi saw Celine’s eyes downcast, shoulders shaking. “It isn’t safe out here; the typhoon is stronger than predicted. Please come home.”
“Look at me.” The words were burning ash on Rumi’s tongue, her form going slack as she stared at the eyes that wouldn’t meet her own. An incredulous laugh escaped Rumi, her claws scraping against her cheeks, blood dribbling in their wake. “You only kept me around to help the honmoon; to turn it gold, how can I do that now?”
Celine opened her mouth, glancing up but shuttered at the sight of luminescence gold catlike eyes staring back at her. Rumi’s laugh became self-deprecating, curling in on herself and clutching her arms. “How can I unite souls, if my own Imo can’t love me? If no one can love me!”
“Rumi, that’s not true!” Celine stepped forward, reaching out with her shaking right hand, her left hand twitching, a tell that she was lying. “I love you!”
“Look at me then, all of me!” Rumi ordered, flying to her feet, tail snapping like a whip, fangs bared in a grimace.
The honmoon hummed louder, as if all the previous hunters were trying to soothe the newest addition. The edges coiled upwards, pulling on Rumi’s shoulders, the whole graveyard fluorescing blue. Celine’s face was more visible in the glow, showing how she couldn’t look up at her adoptive daughter, gaze fixed on the girl’s muddy white sneakers. The grays and blacks of Rumi’s demonic night vision melted to color as the honmoon brightened, and the pain of seeing her Imo unable to look up, in color, intensified.
“We can hide it, Rumi, we can hide all of this. Now get back to the house” Celine screamed, her shoulders shaking.
“I can’t keep doing this, it feels like I’m drowning” Rumi cried, the honmoon rippling around her in an angry red, making Celine flinch.
“The Honmoon is more important, you must hide. Look what you are doing to it.”
‘Heartbreak, it is physically painful.’ Rumi mused in her thoughts. The next thought wasn’t any words, just the image of the nearest cliff overlooking the angry Pacific Ocean, and that the rocks at the bottom were sharp. The honmoon pulsed a sickening rotten green, and Rumi plunged into a run for the cliffs, Celine quick on her heels.
Leaping off the stone path, Rumi’s vision went gray, the roots and stones highlighted by white. Sound pressed in as her now-pointy ears twisted and pivoted. Wood crunching, rain pelting, thunder booming. She could hear Celine’s panting breath just a few paces behind her; she could also hear how Celine stumbled in the dark.
The honmoon hummed died away, and for a painful moment, Rumi felt like it too no longer loved her. Tears bubbled anew in her eyes, breath hitching in her throat as the cliffs came into view.
The sound of the waves crashing against the rocks below drowned out the thunder and rain, and Celine’s struggling breath. The honmoon reignited right in Rumi’s path, making her stumble back. It glowed a softer green, and the sound of a girl singing in English reverberated from it. The voice sounded like sea salt, sunshine, and just a hint of cinnamon. It soothed the gnawing ache in Rumi’s chest.
Glancing beyond the honmoon to the cliff’s edge, Rumi begged. “Please, I just want to be loved, all of me! If that’s impossible, get out of the way!”
The honmoon glowed so bright — Celine, the storm, the cliffs. It all fell away. A thread wrapped around Rumi’s chest, her soul glowing at its touch. The thread tugged, and for a moment, her patterns shone iridescent. “I’ll trust you,” Rumi whispered, letting herself be tugged forward, pink mist clouding her vision.
“RUMI!” Celine’s scream chased her into the mist, but Rumi didn’t stop.
A burn settled in her patterns as she tumbled end over end in the pink mist, the honmoon’s blue thread pulling her along. She couldn’t tell how fast or far. Vaguely, she remembered being told that Jeoseung Saja could teleport short distances. Below, the pink mist shifted and swirled, a hole forming to show the burning altar of Gwi-ma. Rumi clutched the thread in fear, but as soon as she saw him, the mist covered her vision once more and her back collided with warm earth.
The sounds of frogs and crickets were the first thing Rumi noticed. It gave her the courage to open her eyes because hell couldn’t have frogs. Above her, stars twinkled in a sea of inky black. A breeze tickled her cheek, and nearby she could hear the squeak of plastic on metal. Sitting up, Rumi saw the sound coming from an old rusty swing set. Glancing around, she saw more playground equipment, all old and well-loved. The wooden jungle gym was coated in graffiti, Rumi having no clue of the color in the dark. Wood chips surrounded the whole thing, and Rumi couldn’t help but thank the honmoon that she landed in a patch of grass right by it all.
Following the sound of the frogs, Rumi stumbled to a pond, her golden eyes shining in her reflection, her silhouette so demonic that she watched her clawed hand twitch to summon her Saingeom sword. An Engelmann oak branch brushed the pond’s surface in the breeze; it looked as if it too was peering into the water for an answer. Seeing its base hidden by a bunch of shrubs, Rumi crawled through, not caring as sharp needles scraped against her skin. Curling into a ball at the base of the tree, she allowed herself to weep, patterns reigniting; they burned on her skin.
The honmoon pulsed around her, a rhythmic heartbeat that centered on her. She cursed it for lying and just taking her somewhere with no easy out.
Rumi didn’t know how long she lay there, thinking over the last 24 hours. It had all started when her patterns curled to her chin, no turtleneck could hide them, and makeup could only do so much in the bright light of cameras. The announcement of searching for two more Idols to join Sunlight Entertainment had to be delayed, and the shame had eaten at Rumi until her patterns grew before her very eyes. Hearing Celine talk about ways to hide them made it worse, and then the fangs pushed out beyond her lips. Rumi couldn’t get the look of disgust on Celine’s face out of her head.
“You never loved me; you were just a good liar, huh, Celine?” Rumi cried out to no one.
The beam of a flashlight made Rumi shrink back against the tree. The honmoon swirled around the owner, and Rumi flinched as the light shone directly at her, the shadows of branches adding new patterns to her skin. Clenching her eyes shut, she prayed the shrubs were enough to keep her hidden.
“Nana, please, trust me. I think someone needs help; the lines keep pulsing. You said, ‘Having faith is important.’” That voice, Rumi’s ears flicked as she remembered the singing voice that had soothed the ache in her chest. It was the same person. Just like before, the pain that constricted her heart eased, and she felt like she could breathe again.
An older voice, a little farther back that radiated the essence of love and baked goods, “Okay, my Caretta, if you are right, I’m gonna say you don’t have synesthesia.”
The sound of crunching wood forced Rumi to open her eyes just in time to see a girl with wild black hair and freckles dusting her cheeks split through the shrubs on her hands and knees. She was dressed in green pajamas with a black jacket. The girl paused as her flashlight lit up Rumi, and for a second Rumi prepared for a scream, but instead received a gasp of wonder before the girl sputtered in English. “[You look so cool, wait first, are you alright?]”
“No.” Rumi whimpered in Korean, surprised at her own honesty.
The girl twisted to look back and called this time in Korean. “I told you, Nana, it was telling me someone needed help!”
Above them both, the shrubs shifted to reveal an older woman with dark skin and pale brown eyes glittering with warmth. She was also dressed in pajamas with a denim jacket. She looked a little startled as she eyed Rumi, making the half-demon sink into herself, a sob creeping up her throat. The older woman cooed in Korean; her words thick with an accent Rumi couldn’t place. “Wait, no, I’m sorry, please don’t cry.”
“Good job, Nana.” The younger girl scolded.
“Eh, Zoey, hold your tongue. I just wasn’t expecting her appearance.” Nana snapped back. Rumi could see the older woman step back and pull out a string of silver and ruby red alternating beads, a cross hanging in the middle. With her eyes closed, she held the object to her chest.
The girl, Zoey, crawled a little closer. The honmoon gave one burst of light as she gently touched Rumi’s patterned knee. “Hey, it’s okay, I’m here; everything is going to be alright. How did you get here?”
The feeling of cool hands on her burning patterns made Rumi sigh in relief, eyes closing as she fought more tears. The patterns flickered once more with magenta before the color drained away, leaving only the normal bruising purple. Warm arms wrapped around her, and Rumi found herself pulled into a tight hug by Zoey, with hands rubbing her back in soothing circles. “I’ve got you.” Rumi’s clawed hands shook as she returned the hug, her tears soaking into Zoey’s black hoodie.
“Ok, honey, you are only wearing some shorts and a long sleeve, let’s get you back to our place to warm you up.” Nana said as she stuffed away the beads into her pants pocket, a look of new determination of her face. Rumi was tempted to comment on how warm it was compared to Jeju Island but decided against it. With a tug, Zoey pulled Rumi out of the bushes, and Nana wrapped her own denim jacket around Rumi’s shoulders. It felt warm and smelled like cumin and chili powder.
“Thank you,” Rumi’s voice wobbled as she looked between the two. “You don’t have to help me; I know that I… that I’m scary.”
“Nah, you look awesome!” Zoey squealed, clasping Rumi’s clawed hand tightly, eyes sparkling with excitement.
“I’ve got questions, but they can all wait.” Nana proclaimed.
Rumi pulled the denim a little closer, her new tail wrapped around her thigh, and Zoey’s eyes sparkled as she eyed it, whispering, “Can you pick up stuff with your tail?” All Rumi could do was shrug as Nana herded them both out of the park like a mother hen.
All around them were single-family homes, the smell of chlorine thick in the air from all the pools Rumi could see glittering in backyards. Streetlamps buzzed overhead as they walked, and Rumi remembered all of Celine’s lessons about not trusting strangers, but Rumi had never seen the honmoon dance around a person like it did Zoey, and Nana seemed nice. Nicer than Celine, that is. Anger coiled in her gut like a cramp. How could strangers look at her without issue, but Celine couldn’t? Red rippled down her patterns, but a thought stopped them from glowing.
Maybe the Honmoon had granted her request?
Tears replaced the anger as she hiccuped.
“Oh, sweetheart, everything will be okay. Can you tell me your name?” Nana asked as she led them down a street. The green sign read in English ‘Magnolia’ and a weird pressure developed in Rumi’s skull. She did not know where she was, but it definitely wasn’t South Korea.
“Rumi,”
“Wow, that is such a pretty name. Hi, I’m Zoey!” At that, Zoey bumped her shoulder against Rumi’s elbow, a little too short to bump shoulders.
“Zoey is a pretty name too.” Rumi sniffled, the smell of chlorine fading as her nose clogged up.
Nana pulled open a big patch-cloth purse. It sounded like a whole workshop of tools was hidden inside as she fumbled through it before pulling out a white tissue. “Dearie, call me Nana. Now blow your nose and tell me your last name?”
‘Ryu’ was on the tip of Rumi’s tongue, but the fear of going back to the Hanok, back to feeling like a disgrace, snapped Rumi’s mouth shut. The honmoon took her here for a reason; she couldn’t squander her chance.
“Mine’s Banks, if that helps,” Zoey added, but Rumi kept her lips sealed.
Nana’s eyes narrowed, and she chewed on her lip. The debate clear in her eyes that she wanted to press. Casting her brown eyes to the sky, hands clutching the beads once more. “Okay.”
They turned down a small side road; the house shrinking in size. The cars lining the streets lost their shine; new paint was replaced by rust; perfect windshields gained cracks. Rumi blew her nose, and the scent of spices replaced the chlorine. The front yards didn’t have manicured lawns but small gardens, red and green peppers dominating the plants. One even had orange squash the size of Rumi’s head.
“Zoey, remind me to tell Louisa that her pumpkins are looking lovely.”
“I’ll try, but I think we’ll both remember around Thanksgiving.”
“Damn, you’re right.”
Nana slowed in front of a single-story white house with a wrap-around porch. The first thing Rumi thought was how well-loved it looked. The door was painted to look like stained glass; right by it was a swing swaying in front of a window, and the swing glowed with fresh paint. Skating gear littered the driveway — a homemade ramp, old duct tape pads, and the remains of a board stuck in the grass.
“Let’s get you inside. Tomorrow we can tackle everything, but today, sweetie, you need some rest.” Nana’s hands gripped Rumi’s shoulders, and she gave her a genuine smile. Rumi had to fight another round of tears. Zoey grabbed her hand and pulled her inside with excited glee.
“Ok, I’ll give you the full tour tomorrow, Rumi, but tonight, sleepover, if that’s okay.” Zoey paused halfway through the living room that the front door had opened too. Worry replaced the excitement, brown eyes looking sad as she asked quieter, “That’s ok right? You can tell if I’m being too much.”
“Please, I don’t want to be alone.” Rumi admitted, surprised that she could be so honest again with Zoey. A hurting part of her uncoiled at the idea of just being honest all the time. Being able to say when she was tired, or her muscles hurt, or she really didn’t want to be in front of cameras. Being able to have what she wanted. “I’ve never had a sleepover before.”
“Neither have I, but I hear they are the best!” Zoey’s early excitement reignited as she tugged Rumi along again to the hallway, darting to the right.
Behind them, Nana called out. “I’m going to find something for her to change into, Zozo, show her the shower.” Looking down, Rumi saw her clothes clinging to her under Nana’s denim jacket; her shorts were soaked and streaked with mud, and her purple turtleneck wasn’t much better.
“Shower first, then a small tour of my room” That was all the warning Rumi got before she was tugged back the way they came. The bathroom was on the other side of the hall from what had to be Zoey’s room. The tiles were the color of sand, while the walls looked like waves cresting. A little turtle statue was on the white counter, with a glass carefully balanced on its back filled with toothbrushes.
The only thing that took away from the bathroom was the fact it was barely big enough for them both to stand in. And what Zoey rattled off next. “SO! Hot water is more of a dream, Nana working on it, but until it’s fixed…. Imagine warm thoughts.”
And Zoey wasn’t joking. 10 minutes later, Rumi’s teeth chattered as she scrubbed the grim off her. Her tail was crushing her thigh as she fought to keep her claws steady so she could get all the dirt out from under them. Already several cuts bleed into the drain from her accidentally nicking her skin. A part of her worried about all the soap she had to use to finally have the water running clear of her hair.
Pulling open the ocean blue shower curtain, Rumi wrestled to unbind her tail, cursing softly. “Stupid tail, why does it have a mind of its own?” On the counter were gray pajama pants with a hole hastily opened in the back for her tail and an old black 2NEI tour t-shirt. The kindness filled Rumi with warmth as she toweled off and put them on. A few sizes too big, but Rumi was determined to make them work, using safety pins she found under the sink to attach the pants to the shirt.
It was easy to find Zoey’s room; bangs and thumps came from her room, and Rumi stepped into the doorway to see Zoey jumping on an old tire pump, filling up a mattress in the corner of her room. Posters caked the walls of all types of Artists like Eminem, Snoop Dogg, to K-pop groups like Blackpink, BTS, and…. The Sunlight Sisters. At the sight of Celine, Rumi flinched, her fangs almost punching another hole in her lip.
“Rumi!” Zoey gasped as she leaned up, throwing her hands up in pride. “Welcome to Mi Casa, well more Mi Cuarto but Mi Casa is more fun to say.” At Rumi’s baffled look. Zoey adds, “Mi Casa means my home. Mi Cuarto is my room. It’s Spanish!”
“Oh” was all Rumi got before she was pulled inside. The door was hiding Zoey’s bed, a simple full bed absolutely covered in plushies. Most being turtles. There was also a desk covered in paper’s and as Rumi took a closer look, she saw one notebook filled with lyrics written in a mix of English and Korean. Just from a glance, Rumi could hear the melodies she wanted to match them with.
Realization smacked Rumi in the face.
Zoey was one of her Hunters!
The notebook slammed shut as Zoey chuckled mirthlessly. “OH don’t bother with these; they are silly.”
“No!” Rumi flinched at how loud it came out, excitement bubbling in her for the first time in so long. “Those were amazing; please can I sing the part I was looking at.”
Zoey’s eye widened in shock, and shakily she opened her notebook back up. Rumi scanned down the lyrics, tapping her claws onto the wooden desk as she pinned down the melody.
‘Knocking you out like a lullaby
Hear that sound ringing in your mind
Better sit down for the show
‘Cause I’m gonna show you how it’s done, done, done’
“Drums for sure, maybe synths, oh guitar would be nice.” Rumi’s claws clicked out the melody as she tested the sound in her head. The room fell away as she pondered it out, muttering as she pivoted and tried another string. The room rushed back in as she heard a sniffle. Snapping her head to the side, she saw Zoey's lips quivering.
“I’m sorry. What did I do wrong?” Rumi reached out but stopped as she eyed her claws, a little splinter stuck on one from her tapping the desk too hard.
Zoey dived under the claws and pulled Rumi into a squeezing hug that had the air rushing out of Rumi’s lungs. The younger girl squeezed as tight as she could, and Rumi realized that Zoey’s small size didn’t stop her from being very strong. Returning the hug, Rumi heard Zoey choke, “No one but Nana liked my lyrics, and she doesn’t count. I’ve dreamed of someone liking my lyrics just for them.”
“Can I tell you something?” Rumi asked, feeling Zoey nod into her chest. “Those lines you see are called the Honmoon. I really needed help, and it stopped me from doing something bad. It channeled your singing earlier, and it pulled me to that park.”
“WAIT?! I was right! I wasn’t just seeing sounds.” Zoey pulled back, a smile creeping up her face. Before they could talk more, Nana yelled from another part of the house. “Girls, get some rest.”
“Yes, Nana.” They both chorused before giggles escaped them.
Warmth chased away the pain, the future looking so much brighter than it had just an hour ago. No matter what weirdness she threw Zoey’s way, the girl just took it and ran. Rumi ran her fingers over the honmoon, smiling as she saw Zoey realize in that moment that she could actually touch it too, plucking at the strings with newfound wonder.
‘Celine is right about one thing.’ Rumi mused. ‘Meeting your other hunters is a life-changing experience. I still have one more.’
Rumi turned to the air mattress but stopped as a tingle went down her horns from Zoey poking them. “Uh no, you take the bed.”
“No way, I’m not taking your bed.”
“If your horns don’t pop it, your claws will,” Zoey smirked with her winning argument but stopped as Rumi’s patterns lit up magenta and purple. “Please don’t feel bad. I sleep on this all the time when we go camping. It’s been a few years, so okay not all the time, but I used to. I don’t mind.”
“Promise?”
“Pinky promise.” Zoey hooked her pinky around Rumi’s pinky claw, and smiled brightly, ignoring the feeling that she just got a paper cut from said claw.
----
*BANG*
Rumi flung out of bed, plushies raining down like rocks from an erupting volcano. Dazed, she flinched as a car nearby backfired again, the sound like cannon fire. She could hear the neighbors chatting about ‘The Chargers’ returning to LA from San Diego. Another neighbor was mowing the lawn. Yet another was having a heated argument over what had to be the phone about ‘Taxes not being used for potholes.’
“How do demons stand being in cities, my ears!” Rumi groaned, rubbing her face. Stumbling through the fallen plushies to the door, she flung it open, and a warm chocolate smell made her stomach grumble, and she followed it through the small house. In the morning sun, Rumi could see more posters decorating the walls of the living room, including another Sunlight Sister’s poster. It had to be from their early days with the smiles they wore. Distance from the pain of yesterday had Rumi able to stare Celine down with only a frown.
Shaking her head, she walked through a small archway into the kitchen/dining room. The space was small; it could fit into Rumi’s bedroom back at the Hanok. Zoey was sitting at the square kitchen table with more notebooks pulled out, her tongue sticking out as she checked over lyrics. Nana was stirring a pot with the widest smile Rumi had ever seen. Seeing her, the smile somehow got even wider, but there was added confusion. “You look different.”
“Don’t tell me I look more demon.” Rumi whined and gripped her arms but stopped as she felt her nails bite into her skin instead of the claws. Looking down, she saw her patterns were softer, her tail was gone, and her hands looked human.
Zoey shot out of her chair, circling Rumi. “Unnie, you look so pretty. You were pretty before, but in a like dangerous way.” A blush-colored Rumi’s cheeks at hearing ‘Unnie.’ She couldn’t remember the last time anyone had called her that, and it made her feel warm all over.
“I have to say, this is good to see. I was wondering how to explain this to the foreign exchange student.” Nana pressed her hand over her heart, chuckling out her anxiety.
“Right!” Zoey said. “They are arriving in 6 days; you are lucky, Rumi. I’ve been practicing my Korean for them. If you had dropped in weeks ago, it would have been SO AWKWARD!”
“Nonsense, I’ve made sure you’ve kept up, Zoey. Now sit, both of you.” Nana gestured to the table, bringing over the old, battered black pot, a dark brown liquid steaming on the inside. Zoey hastily scooped up her notebooks, dropping them onto the windowsill behind her. The window shows only the slatting of the house next door. Nana ladled the drink into three mismatched cups, gesturing for them both to take theirs before she even touched her own.
“Ok, Rumi, why don’t you want to tell me your last name?” Nana spoke over her drink, her eyes shining with only genuine care.
Rumi’s grip tightened on her cup, the edges of her fingers darkening purple, her head filling with static. Sucking in a breath, she tried to calm herself, hoping they could stop, but the thought made the purple spread. Panic made her breath catch, the liquid sloshing as she shook. Nana’s old weather hands cupped Rumi’s, steading her. “Please, I can’t go back.” Rumi begged, making the older woman sigh. Rumi felt she needed to say more, the words gushing out of her. “I can’t take it — the disgust; she doesn’t love me. All I’m good for is making the Honmoon gold, but the patterns, they kept spreading, and yesterday. That happened.”
Nana raised the cup, gesturing for Rumi to drink. Sipping slowly, spiced chocolate coated Rumi’s tongue. It was warm, and she felt the muscles in her abdomen unclench, her back slouching into the chair. The purple faded from her fingertips.
Outside, birds tweeted, letting Rumi latch onto the sound. It pressed away the static. Nana’s soft voice shook her back to reality. “I will help you, but we have to do things by the book. First, you are going to be reported missing...”
Rumi cut Nana off, flinching as she did it. “That’s not a worry; I’m very, very far from home.”
Zoey added. “Apparently the strings and lines I’ve been seeing are called the Honmoon. Rumi can see them too. The honmoon led Rumi to us!”
Taking a very steady breath, Nana just started nodding, muttering away. “Ok, sure, that makes sense. The lines are the Honmoon, whatever that is?”
“It’s the barrier between the mortal world and the demon world.” Rumi answered, sitting up a little straighter, happy that she could answer that question. That excitement dampened as Nana's face looked a little strained, as if she was in mild pain.
“It picks three girls each generation to become Demon Hunter and strengthen the Honmoon through their song…. I think that’s why it drew me to Zoey when I needed help.” Rumi sank a bit into the chair, busying herself by sipping again at the hot chocolate.
A pin could drop a mile away, and Rumi knew she would hear it like a guillotine. Being completely honest was looking like a bad idea. The tension returned to her gut, and with frustration she watched her patterns flick yellow across her skin.
“This is a lot, Rumi, do you have something you can show me that will help me understand?” Nana pleaded, a look of disbelief clear on her face. Rumi reached for the threads of the honmoon; she could see how they reflected in Zoey’s widening eyes. Plucking at the strings, her Saingeom sword materialized, and she set it on the table with a thunk.
“This is officially the coolest day of my life!” Zoey squealed. She chugged the rest of her hot chocolate and hopped to her feet. “Can you show me how I can get my own sword!”
Nana.exe was frozen, staring at the glowing blade with her mouth completely slack, bedhead looking a little wilder. Reaching over, Zoey shook her hands in front of her Nana’s face. Without changing her facial expression, Nana fumbled to her feet, grabbing at the silver and red beads lying on the kitchen counter. With it no longer being dark and Rumi able to focus, she watched as Nana’s hands first held the cross. She spoke something low before passing each bead through her fingers, muttering anew at each one.
“What’s up with the beads?” Rumi couldn’t help but ask, standing up from the table.
“It’s a rosary. Nana is Catholic. She’s praying.” Zoey answered nonchalantly.
On the chain, Nana fed several beads through before praying once more, eyes completely closed. Rumi picked up that Nana was praying in Spanish. One of the few popular languages that Rumi didn’t know. She knew it was on the list to shove in her head if she ever went back to Celine. Picking her sword back up, she dropped it back into the honmoon, a ripple extending from her like a rock was dropped into a pond.
“This destiny, to be a Demon Hunter, is it set?” Nana questioned without opening her eyes.
“From what I know, yes,” Rumi answered, feeling guilty that someone who wasn’t supposed to be in on the know was being forced to accept all the madness she had lived with all her life.
A light shone in Nana’s eyes as she straightened. “One step at a time. Okay! Rumi, you can stay with us as long as you need. My only request is that you teach us as much as you can about this Honmoon, and what it means.”
“Deal!”