Chapter Text
That day on the playground, Rumi was feeling confident. More confident than she usually was. Because this was her first day at her new school, and things were going to be good, and she was going to make friends!
Her Eomma and her Appa had told her all about this school in the weeks leading up to her first day. How it was going be fun, and she was going to learn new things and meet new people. So even though she was nervous about leaving her home in Jeju and moving to Seoul, she was still able to be excited.
Her Eomma dropped her off and gave her a kiss. "I love you, Rumi-ya. I'm so excited to hear about your first day when you get home."
"Love you, Eomma," Rumi said, smiling up at her.
Her classroom was a space full of sunlight, with soft carpets, small chairs and tables. A few other children were already there, playing with toys in the middle of the room. The teacher, a pretty woman with long black hair that flowed all around her, greeted Rumi when she entered the classroom.
"Good morning, Rumi-ssi," she said with a gentle smile.
"Good morning, Gyosu-nim," Rumi said with a bow of her head.
Rumi joined the others—a little boy and two little girls—in playing a picture-matching card game. She watched for a round, then asked if she could play.
A little girl with her hair swept back in a bright yellow barrette shook her head. "No. We're playing right now."
"Oh," Rumi said, stung. "I can wait for my turn."
"There's no turns," the little girl said snidely. "We're playing. You can go play with something else."
Rumi frowned but stood up and walked away, trying to be polite and calm. She went and sat at one of the small tables. A few more children wandered in. Rumi took no notice of them until she saw a little girl enter with bright pink hair.
"Mira-ssi, welcome back," the teacher said brightly.
"Hi, Gyosu-nim," Mira said, looking up for just a moment, her hands clutching the straps of her bag.
As she stepped into the room, her eyes met Rumi's. And she smiled. Rumi smiled back, feeling a little tickle in her stomach and her face growing warm.
Rumi watched as Mira put her things away in the small cubby with her name in bubbly hangul: a black backpack, a pink raincoat, and a white lunch box with little flowers. As she stared at Mira, the teacher announced it was time to gather on the large, round rug. She almost chose a spot near Mira, but she felt suddenly shy, sitting instead next to a little Omega boy with short-cropped hair.
They talked about the rain, and Chu-seok and the teacher read a story about a little girl who walked down a long, dark cave to the centre of the Earth to find medicine for her mother. The teacher told them that today they would talk about colours and how they mix together. Later, they would collect autumn leaves and trace their shapes. Rumi was excited about collecting leaves. She loved finding small things in the brush back in Jeju.
The morning passed quickly, as fun times often did. The rain had cleared by afternoon, and the teacher sent them to play outside after they'd eaten their lunches. Rumi explored the grounds with care. She liked to really see everything before she ran around.
As she was staring up at the trees and their many coloured leaves, she collided with something—someone. She fell on her bottom, hard. Tears welled in her eyes for a moment, but she swallowed them down. She looked up. Seul-gi was scowling down at her.
"Watch where you're walking, stupid," she growled.
"Don't call me that!" Rumi snapped without thinking.
The girl snarled and lashed out, stepping on Rumi's left hand where it was splayed on the ground. Rumi yelped in pain and tried to pull away, but Seul-gi was heavier and stronger. Even as a child, she already stank like an Alpha—her scent like fermented fruit and something earthy.
Rumi growled then. That seemed to only make Seul-gi angrier.
"What is your problem, Omega? Nobody in your house teach you how things work?" Seul-gi sneered.
Before Rumi could reply, Seul-gi hit the ground with a groan. A new scent flooded her nose—sharp and brisk like a snowy morning on the island. The girl from that morning, Mira, was standing over Seul-gi now, breathing hard. "Stay down," Mira huffed.
Seul-gi bared her fangs, a small roar in her throat. As much as a pup could roar, anyway. Mira walked closer and pressed Seul-gi's hand under her shoe, grinding down until she whined.
"Leave her alone," Mira said in an attempt at an Alpha voice. It made Rumi shiver, even though it was directed at Seul-gi. She whined again and looked down. Defeated. When Mira removed her foot, Seul-gi ran off.
They both watched her go. When she was on the other side of the playground, Mira turned towards Rumi and offered her hand. "Are you okay?" She asked.
Rumi nodded, although her feelings were hurt and her hand ached.
"Do you want to sit together for a minute?" Mira asked. Her voice was much softer when she talked to Rumi.
"Yeah, okay."
Mira led them to the base of a large tree. She sat down with her back against the trunk and waited for Rumi to do the same. When they were both pressed against the tree, they were quiet for a bit. Rumi breathed deeply and listened to the wind rustling the leaves.
Eventually, Mira asked, "You're an Omega?"
Rumi nodded.
"I'm an Alpha."
"I know," Rumi say quietly. "I can tell by your smell."
"Oh." Mira looked down, rubbing the back of her neck.
"It's not bad," Rumi added.
"Oh, okay," Mira said, still staring at the ground, her face red. "Um, well. I know that… Seul-gi is an Alpha, and she's bothering you."
Rumi felt pained just thinking about it. "Yeah," she whispered, throat dry.
"I could do something. To make her stop."
Rumi looked up. "Like what?"
Mira glanced over, then back at the ground. "Use my smell. She wouldn't go near you then."
"Oh." Rumi knew what Mira meant. Scenting. Sometimes Appa would do it to Eomma before she travelled for work. "So everyone knows you're mine," Appa would tell her. "You want to do that?" Rumi asked.
"I would. If you want to." Mira fidgeted with her hands.
Rumi was quiet for a minute. She looked at Mira, searching for… Something. How did grown-ups decide things like this? How did you know who was good and who was bad? Mira said she wanted to help. Shouldn't Rumi trust that?
"It's not a big deal if you—"
"Okay," Rumi said.
"It's… Okay? You want to?"
"Yes. I don't want to… Fight with Seul-gi again. And I like the way you smell. So… You can Scent me."
"Oh. Okay." Mira seemed very nervous now.
Rumi scooted closer to her, holding out her wrist. "Like this?"
Mira cleared her throat. "Yeah." She took Rumi's wrist and placed her own over it. Then she pressed them together.
Rumi could feel it then. Just a little tingling under the skin. She could smell Mira's scent mixing with her own—citrus and salt water. It felt nice.
When the teacher called them back from recess, they shared a little secret smile.
But when Rumi got home, her Eomma wasn't happy.
"Rumi, baby. I need you to listen to me. You can't just let people scent you, okay?"
"But Mira isn't—"
"I know she's your friend, Aegiya. But Scenting is serious. And your Appa finds it upsetting when you or I smell different. I know it's hard to understand."
Rumi pouted. "She was just helping me. Seul-gi was teasing me, and she pushed me down!"
Mi-yeong reached out and stroked Rumi's cheek. "My love. I'm sorry. I didn't know that. You should tell a teacher if someone is bothering you like that, okay?"
"Okay." But Rumi knew that tattling would only bring more trouble.
So even though she liked being good and even though her Eomma and her Appa asked her not to, she still let Mira scent her sometimes. Even if they didn't press their wrists together, their scents mingled in time anyway. Every morning, they sat together around the circle, ate lunch together, and played together. They slept on mats near each other at nap time, and Mira shared her snacks with Rumi.
"The kitchen packs me extra," Mira deflected when Rumi asked why she always had enough to share.
Eventually, their parents warmed to the idea of their friendship. They had play dates every other weekend. For her birthday, Rumi only asked for one thing: a sleepover with Mira. And a Miffy birthday cake. Just two things.
And even though Rumi overheard her Appa say to her Eomma, "I don't love the idea of a little Alpha in the house," they still let Mira stay. They stayed up as late as they could, just talking and giggling. They fell asleep holding hands.
The years and birthdays went by quickly.
They attended the all-girls academy together. Mira got taller. Rumi did not. Soon she had to look up at Mira when they walked home together, sharing a bag of colourful ppeongtwigi, chewing the crisp puffed rice crackers obnoxiously with their mouths open.
On rainy days or when she had taken out too many library books, Mira would carry Rumi home on the front of her bicycle. When Mira fought with her parents, Rumi would let her sneak in her window and spend the night. Rumi's Appa would chase her out in the morning like a stray cat—her Eomma would usually at least feed her breakfast first.
When Rumi turned fourteen, she had a birthday dinner instead of her usual sleepover with Mira. Her parents seemed oddly relieved when she asked. A few friends came along for Korean BBQ. Mira sat next to her at the table, their thighs pressed together. It was the same as ever—but it felt different, somehow. When Rumi looked up at Mira as she put some cooked beef on her plate, their gaze held for a moment too long. Mira smiled at her, and Rumi felt it in her stomach, a little twist.
Later, when she put her hand down on the bench between them, Mira placed hers beside it. Their pinkies touched. Rumi didn't move away.
A few weeks later, Mira asked her to meet at the park. It wasn't far from the school—usually they'd walk there together, but Mira made it clear she wanted to arrive separately. Not on a school day.
And Rumi agreed. Because she was curious. But when the time came, she felt nervous. She wore a soft cotton dress with a simple pattern and flowers embroidered on the chest. She kept smoothing it out, over and over, her hands cascading down her front. She wore a cardigan over top when she walked to the park, palms sweating despite the chill in the air.
She spotted Mira right away. She was wearing a nice shirt—a flannel that Rumi knew very well. She'd borrowed it before when she was cold. And when she wasn't. Mira had her hair pulled up in a bun, which she usually only did when they played games or sports. She looked as nervous as Rumi felt.
Rumi gave her a little wave, and her expression transformed into a smile. She waved back.
They walked a short distance into the park. Mira had a bench in mind she wanted to sit at, she said. So they wandered past the little grove of trees with the big stone statues and over to the pond. Whenever the wind picked up, the branches of the towering pines would sway, dappling the ground below with sunlight.
They reached the pond quickly and settled on the bench. At first, Mira stared out at the water, not looking in Rumi's direction. Finally, after several quiet minutes, Mira began to speak.
"Rumi… I wanted to ask you here because I, uh." Rumi could see Mira swallow, nails scraping against her jeans as she flexed and unflexed her hands. Rumi could smell she was growing more anxious, her scent spiking.
She reached out and touched Mira's arm. "It's okay," she soothed. She didn't really know, of course. But things between them had always had a way of working out. She could hear Mira's breathing slow a bit as she caressed her arm.
Mira shifted, turning her body on the bench to face Rumi. After a moment's hesitation, Rumi mirrored her, adjusting her position until they were looking one another in the eye.
The gentle breeze ruffled Mira's hair, the pieces that framed her face whipping about. Her lips parted, and she spoke.
"I really like you," Mira said, still all nerves. "Like, a lot."
"I really like you, too," Rumi said, smiling as gently as she could. She wasn't sure what was making Mira so worried, but it was starting to affect her, too. She felt the buzz beneath her skin.
Mira bit her lip and looked away. Finally, not lifting her gaze, she reached over and took Rumi's hands in her own. She set them on the bench between them.
"Rumi, do you think… Have you ever… Um." Mira was quiet for a beat.
When she spoke again, it was in a rushed whisper, the words barely audible: "Would you ever want to be my girlfriend?"
"Oh." That was not what Rumi had expected Mira to say. She knew in her heart that Mira was an Alpha, and she was an Omega, and the world certainly had its share of things to say about how they should be together. Rumi didn't agree with much of it.
But Mira was different.
She had never been just an Alpha to Rumi. She was her friend. Her best friend. Her sleepover buddy. They'd seen each other through all kinds of things. There had never been a single moment when Rumi didn't trust Mira to get her through something.
She realized with an uncomfortable lurch that she'd been silent for a long time. Mira looked… Closed off. Before Rumi could say anything, she felt Mira begin to gently pull her hands away.
"Of course, I understand if you don't feel the same way," Mira said, her voice soft. She was smiling, but her eyes were glassy. "It was… Just something I needed to say. I promise I won't let it get in the way of our friendship."
Rumi frowned. "Mira, I—"
"You don't have to explain, Rumi. I understand." She brushed a loose strand of hair behind her ear and cleared her throat. "We should go get a bubble tea!" She suggested, voice pitching strangely. "It's getting kind of cold out here." She stood up abruptly.
Rumi tried to gather her thoughts. "If you're—"
"There's a new place near here, I think, where everything is cat themed." Mira turned on her heel, lurching off in another direction.
Rumi followed as best as she could. As they walked, Mira filled the air with babbling conversation. It was unusual for her. She talked on and on about all the bubble tea places in the neighbourhood—what she liked and didn't like.
When they finally reached the shop, despite all her chatter, Mira ordered something simple—a milk tea with no pearls. She drank it half-heartedly, but smiled whenever she thought Rumi was watching.
Mira walked Rumi back to her apartment. The sun was already setting, turning the sky a brilliant red and orange, bleeding into inky black. As they hovered on the doorstep, Mira scratched the back of her neck. "I'm sorry about earlier," She said quietly. "I promise I won't mention it again."
"Oh. That's okay." Rumi didn't know what to say. "I'm not upset," she added. Just in case Mira was worried.
"That's good," Mira said, her lips curling into an unnatural smile. "I'll see you at school on Monday?"
Rumi swallowed. Her throat felt tight. "Yeah. I'll, um. See you at school."
Mira backed away, giving her a little wave. Then she turned and walked down the path and around the corner, disappearing into the evening light.
Rumi took the stairs up to her family's apartment in silence. She found herself lost in thought. When she got inside, no one was home—her parents had gone out for the night. She walked to her bedroom and stepped reflexively to her window.
In the fading light, she could see Mira walking away, down the narrow street. She glanced back, as if sensing Rumi's eyes on her. Even from a distance, Rumi could see that her face was red.
The first couple of weeks after Mira's confession were awkward. Rumi didn't know what to say, and Mira tried to fill the silence. Slowly but surely, they fell back into their rhythm. Rumi still caught Mira looking at her sometimes in a way that made her stomach ache.
Over the summer, Mira spent some time in France with her family. It was nice to have some distance, in a way. When she came home, her skin was browned from the sun, and she was somehow even taller—at least from Rumi's perspective. Her smell had even changed a bit. It was richer.
When Mira hugged her, it filled her lungs, sitting warm and heavy in her chest. Mira's hand lingering on her lower back sent a shiver up her spine. But Mira pulled away as if she hadn't even noticed, fishing into a bag to show Rumi a souvenir magnet she'd gotten her for her collection. Rumi just stood staring.
That fall, a new girl started in their year at school. The first thing Rumi noticed about her was that she was almost as tall as Mira. The second thing she noticed was the way Mira looked at her.
Rumi first saw it when they were walking to school together. Mira caught sight of this girl and froze, cheeks turning pink. Rumi furrowed her brow, confused at first, following the line of Mira's gaze.
And yeah, she was pretty. Sure. Her hair was long and glossy black. She pulled part of it back with a yellow ribbon. She introduced herself with confidence. She said her name was Ji-woo and she liked high fashion and K-dramas.
And though she didn't mention it, Rumi was pretty sure she liked Mira, too.
As soon as she sensed it, there was that prickle again. That sickening sort of lurch in her stomach. Just imagining Ji-woo talking to Mira, Ji-woo laughing at something Mira said, Ji-woo touching Mira's arm. It made Rumi's stomach ache.
Rumi was thinking about it on their walk home from school that day, and her scent spiked so strongly that Mira coughed and asked if she was okay. She mumbled some excuse about a K-drama plot that was upsetting her. But when Mira asked the name of the show, Rumi couldn't even summon a lie.
She didn't understand what she was feeling. She woke up in the middle of the night in a flop sweat, her pyjamas drenched. When she came downstairs the next morning, her Eomma looked concerned.
"Rumi-ya, are you alright? You smell unwell." She put the back of her palm to Rumi's forehead. "You're burning up."
"I don't feel good," Rumi mumbled, immediately defeated.
"Oh, Aegiya. You should stay home from school today. Let me—"
Rumi opened her mouth to protest, panicked. "But I—"
"Your schoolwork can wait. Don't worry. I'll make sure Mira brings it for you."
"But—"
Her mother shook her head. "No 'buts.' Sit down, and I'll make you something to eat, and then it's back to bed. Okay?"
Rumi nodded, sullen. A whole day of Mira and Ji-woo together at school alone. Her stomach roiled at the thought.
After her Eomma left for work, Rumi spent a restless morning and afternoon storming around the apartment, too upset to read or watch television. The more she imagined Ji-woo and Mira together, the worse it became. What if they walked home together? What if they held hands?
She froze as her mind rendered the worst possible outcome:
What if they kissed?
Rumi felt the awful sting like bile in her throat. No. Not like bile. Actually bile. She slapped her hand over her mouth and scrambled to the bathroom, clutching the toilet at the last possible moment, and emptying her stomach.
She slumped to the cool tile floor when she was done with that miserable experience. The heat of her anger had melted away to abject sadness. She was doomed to lie on the floor of the bathroom forever while her Mira kissed another girl.
Rumi's eyes narrowed. Her Mira?
She wasn't—
A knock at the front door startled her. She sat up quickly, wincing as her head pounded. She flushed the toilet and splashed water on her face at the sink. In the mirror, her complexion was pale and splotchy. She whined and turned away.
She peered through the peephole of the front door to see Mira standing there, holding a packet of papers. She swallowed a groan. What horrible timing. She looked like she'd escaped from a hospital ward. She probably smelled like it, too.
Sighing, she resigned herself to opening the door.
"Oh, hey," Mira said. "I brought your—Oh. Wow."
Rumi's expression crumpled. "I know, I'm disgusting, I'm sorry—"
"No, no. I just didn't realize you were so sick. You smell—"
"Please don't smell me, Mira, I'm so embarrassed already." Rumi curled in on herself in shame.
"Rumi," Mira protested, her expression going soft. "Come on. Let me in."
"You don't have to, you can just give me the—"
Mira rolled her eyes and pushed her way inside. "I'm not just giving you your homework and leaving. You're sick. You look—"
"Don't look at me," Rum whined, pulling her hood up.
"You look like you need to lie down," Mira urged. She closed the door behind her. "Did you eat?"
"I don't really—"
"Go lie down. I'll make you something to drink."
Rumi sighed. She wrapped her arms around herself, frowning. But Mira just looked at her, her expression firm but kind. "Okay. Fine."
So she climbed into bed, and Mira brought her tea and crackers and told her what she missed that day at school. And it felt nice. To just be there with Mira. No parents, no classmates, no Ji-woo.
Rumi put her hand out on the bed as Mira spoke, palm facing up. Hoping Mira would get the hint. She flexed her fingers a few times, splaying them apart. Eventually, Mira seemed to catch on. She placed her hand in Rumi's with a curious smile.
Just as Mira was describing an incident involving some inappropriately spicy ramyun at lunch, Rumi blurted out, "Was Ji-woo there?"
Mira tipped her head to the side, clearly amused. "What?"
"I was just—I was wondering—"
"If Ji-woo was there? At school? Um. Yeah?"
"Oh." Rumi wasn't sure what she was expecting.
"Rumi…" Mira said, restrained laughter in her voice. "Are you scenting me?"
Rumi's eyes drifted down to their arms, entwined on the mattress. Her wrist gland pressed against Mira's. It felt so natural. She hadn't really done it on purpose. "No?" She said, in a deeply unconvincing denial.
"You should get some sleep. You're a little out of it." Mira pulled her hand away, and Rumi had to swallow a noise of protest. She brought her hand up and pressed the back of it to Rumi's forehead. "You're really warm," she mused, looking concerned. Rumi, embarrassingly, leaned into Mira's touch.
"Mira, could we—"
"I should probably let you rest," Mira said as she pulled her hand away.
Rumi sighed, even though she could already feel the pull of sleep dragging her down. "Yeah. Okay."
"Don't scent anybody else, okay?" Mira teased.
Rumi looked away, face even more flushed than before.
It took Rumi a few days to feel normal again. On her first day back, she got up an extra hour early to get ready. She ran into her Appa in the kitchen.
"You're up early, Rumi-ya," Appa said, as she poured herself some tea.
"Oh. Yeah. I just… Wanted to get ready. Extra."
"Is there something happening today?"
Rumi's eyes slowly drifted across the room, pretending to be interested in something outside the window. "No," she said, at last. Not entirely believable. At least based on her Appa's expression.
She disappeared up to her room afterwards, showering, drying her hair and putting on a little makeup. She put a pink bow in her hair because she knew Mira liked pink. She felt ridiculous, staring at herself in the mirror. What was she doing?
Her Eomma called for her not long after. "Rumi! Mira's here!"
She quickly grabbed her things and walked swiftly to the kitchen. And there was Mira. In her sports coat and the silly tie they made them wear, her shirt was half untucked. She looked pretty. She looked handsome. She looked—
"Feeling better?" Mira asked, interrupting Rumi's thoughts.
"Uh-huh," Rumi said, eloquently.
They walked to school in relative quiet. It was a nice day—the sun was shining, and there was a cool breeze. The doldrums of summer were over, and fall was settling in.
Before they reached the last turn, Rumi stopped walking. She mustered all her courage, and she grabbed Mira by the elbow and pulled her into a hug.
Mira reacted with surprise at first, then slipped her arms around her back. "You okay?" She asked.
Rumi pressed her nose to Mira's scent gland and breathed deeply. It made Mira go stiff in her arms.
"Rumi," she said softly. Almost a protest. Her scent was hard to read. Nervous mixed with something Rumi didn't recognize.
Stepping back, Rumi looked up at her, cheeks flushed. "I just wanted to… Do that. Sorry."
"I didn't mind," Mira said, looking at her in that way she often did. Like it was just the two of them in the whole world. "Can I have yours, too?"
"My… My what?" Rumi blinked, confused.
"Your scent. Since you have mine."
"Oh." Right. "Yes. Of course." Rumi held her wrist out on reflex.
Mira smiled and pressed her wrist to Rumi's.
That was all it was at first.
Rumi started scenting Mira every day when they walked to school. Just a little. It was subtle. She was pretty sure it was subtle. It was just her wrist pressed to Mira's wrist. Sometimes her wrist pressed against Mira's neck.
And yeah, maybe Mira usually scented her too. Maybe she hugged her and rubbed her nose against Rumi's neck. It wasn't a big deal. Rumi didn't think about it all the time, and she definitely didn't think about it late at night before she fell asleep.
Ji-woo backed off.
That's all Rumi really wanted.
So they didn't have to keep scenting each other. But Mira just smelled really good. Their scenting… Sessions? Started lasting longer and longer. Rumi was late to class more than once, her blood hot in her veins, smelling freshly of her Alpha best friend. Thankfully, her first-period teacher understood—at least enough to only shake her head with a smile and let Rumi inside.
Then one day, not long before her fifteenth birthday, sitting on a bench in the park near campus, Mira's lips grazed her neck. At first, Rumi was sure she had imagined it, that it was the same light nuzzles and cuddles that they usually exchanged. But then she felt it again—Mira's lips, firmly pressing a kiss to her neck.
She startled both of them by whining softly. She was pretty sure every pore on her body opened after that, her skin turning a blazing red. She was so embarrassed she thought she might sink through the Earth's crust and directly into its core. They were learning about the tectonic plates that week, and it was on her mind.
But Mira didn't seem disturbed. In fact, she kissed her again. On the corner of her jaw, then her cheek and finally the spot just above her lips and below her nose. She pulled back then, looking at Rumi, her eyes questioning.
Rumi didn't wait. She grabbed the back of Mira's neck and pulled her in for a proper kiss, lips crashing together.
That was when everything went absolutely haywire inside her mind.
Rumi kissed Mira again and again and again. She couldn't get enough. Mira's scent was coiling through every single olfactory receptor in her body. She felt overwhelmed.
Mira pressed her nose to the small, firm scent gland in Rumi's neck. Rumi felt it start to unfurl, expanding, pushing its way to the surface. Her mind was beginning to marinate in hormones, her capacity for rational thought drowning slowly.
Mira's lips were on her neck again. Everything in her mind was swirling around the same thing: Mira. Mira. Mira.
Marking her as her own.
The thought of her leaving that park bench without Mira's teeth in her neck was excruciating. She whimpered, just imagining it, and Mira's scent flared—anxious.
"You okay? I can feel that… Something is bothering you." Mira kissed her cheek.
Rumi swallowed, looking away. She licked her lips—she could feel how kiss-swollen they were under her tongue. "Yeah, I just… It's dumb."
Mira frowned. "It's not. It's not dumb if it's upsetting you. Tell me now."
Mira's Alpha voice rippled through her, her tone pitching down to that ancestral level that only an Omega could hear. The compulsion to explain rose uncontrollably—she couldn't hold it back. "I want your mark," she gasped.
Mira's eyes widened. "Rumi…"
Rumi looked away, embarrassed. "Please don't… Use your voice on me."
Mira winced. "I'm sorry. I'm… Not very good at controlling it yet. I'll try not to. I promise." Mira stroked her arm.
"Okay." She sighed, some of the tension of the moment draining away.
"Look, um." Mira brushed her hair back, fluffing it up a bit. "I don't know if we should do that."
"I know," Rumi said, pitifully.
"But, maybe, if you're interested," Mira took Rumi's hand in her own, lacing their fingers together. "We could try being girlfriends?"
Rumi felt like crying. Girlfriends. She tried to blink away her tears.
Mira hesitated at the sight of tears in her eyes. "I know I asked before, and I don't want you to feel like—"
"I'm sorry I didn't say yes before," Rumi said, tearfully. "I just… I had to get there on my own, I think."
"That's okay." Mira smiled fondly at her. "We can take our time."
Rumi loved being Mira's girlfriend. She loved walking to school holding hands, she loved catching her eye while they were doing homework in the library, and she loved the way Mira would stand with her arm around her shoulder. It was like a dream.
Her parents were cautiously approving at first. Mira's parents seemed less so, but she dismissed it as them being "Idiots, as usual."
On the whole, everything was perfect.
Until Rumi's fifteenth birthday.
Mira took her out for dinner. She wore a nice black dress, and Mira wore her new leather jacket, and they walked to a little place near Rumi's apartment together. Mira had convinced her parents to let her get a part-time job at a cafe to "teach her responsibility"—really, it was so she could have some pocket money. She was clearly really proud to be taking Rumi out on her own dime. She even got Rumi a little bouquet of flowers.
It felt very grown-up, sitting across a table from each other. The food wasn't anything special, but Rumi savoured each bite.
When they were finished eating, they lingered until the restaurant closed. Rumi didn't have to be home until 10 PM, and she didn't want to waste a minute of her pre-curfew time. So they went for a walk in the park, even though the light had faded from the sky. They talked about school, their parents, and Rumi's past birthdays.
"I miss our sleepover parties," Rumi lamented without much thought.
"I don't know if you could call just the two of us a party," Mira said, amusement in her voice. She had stopped at the pond to skip rocks, the water rippling in the moonlight.
"Well, it was my birthday party, so I think I get to decide."
Mira looked back at her and grinned. "Uh-huh." She turned and skipped another small stone. It fell into the water after two skips with a ker-plunk.
As she watched Mira, Rumi wrapped her arms around herself. The temperature was dropping, and it was getting late.
"Are you getting cold?" Mira asked.
Rumi hadn't even realized she'd been watching her. Before she could respond, Mira took off her jacket and wrapped it around Rumi's shoulders. "Thanks," she said, shy. Even though the jacket was new, it already smelled nicely of Mira.
"I should probably walk you home. It's almost 10 PM." Mira looked as sad as Rumi felt that the night was ending.
"Yeah," she said quietly, resigned.
When they reached Rumi's front door, Mira gave her a sweet kiss. "Happy birthday, Rumi," she whispered.
Rumi bit her lip. When Mira started to pull away, she gripped her arms tightly. "Wait."
"Hmm?"
"What if… What if we have one more birthday sleepover? Just for old times' sake?" Rumi looked up at her with what she hoped was a convincing expression.
"Rumi, I don't think your parents would like that. They didn't like me sleeping here even when we weren't dating."
"But—"
"You know I'm right. I'm not saying I don't want to."
Rumi frowned and chewed her lip again. She looked up at Mira and said the one thing she knew she couldn't refuse.
"Please, Mira?"
Mira took a deep breath and shook her head. "Okay."
Looking back, Rumi often thought about how if she had just let Mira go home that night, things might have been different for them.
It didn't seem so significant at the time. She snuck Mira into her room the way she always had. They took turns changing into pyjamas—Rumi's pants comically short on Mira's long legs. When Mira pouted at her giggling, she apologized, reassuring her that her "giraffe legs" weren't her fault.
Mira threw a pillow at her.
Settling down into bed together didn't feel so different, either. They lay there just looking at each other at first. They held hands like that first time when they were basically just babies. Rumi wasn't even sure if the memory of that was her own, or if she had just conjured an image of it in her mind from her parents' teasing stories.
After dozing on and off for a bit, Rumi nestled closer to Mira, tucking her head under her chin. She was half asleep, but she put her arm over her shoulder and sighed. It was the last thing Rumi remembered before all the shouting.
She never knew why Appa came into her room that morning. Maybe it was some kind of sixth sense. But bright and early, she opened the door, pulling back the curtains so that the sun streamed on their faces. Rumi blinked awake, confused, only to see her Appa's face utterly aghast.
"Rumi! What—When—" Her expression turned thunderous. Rumi quickly squirmed out of Mira's arms, and she stirred.
"A-Abeonim," Mira stammered. She scrambled away from Rumi, pressing herself against the wall.
"Appa, please, I can explain—" Rumi held up her hands, panic setting in.
"Both of you—living room—right now." Celine's voice was concerningly even. Rumi knew she was terrifyingly angry then. She was always at her most collected when she was livid.
Rumi thought that her Appa would interrogate them or at least let them explain. But she only talked. She talked about how irresponsible they were, how much she had trusted them, and how they had thrown all of that away. Every time Rumi tried to interject, she silenced her. Once, she even used her Alpha voice to do it. Rumi was near tears. Mira just stared at her lap, ashamed.
Her Eomma watched most of it unfold quietly. At some point, she said in a soft voice to Celine, an attempt to soothe her—"They didn't do anything, Jagiya."
Celine shook her head. "You don't understand, love."
Rumi watched them warily.
"We need to call your parents, Mira," Mi-yeong said gently. Rumi glanced and watched as Mira's expression turned stony.
The Han family arrived quickly in a large black car. Mira's father cut an imposing figure as he stepped into the apartment. He was trailed by her mother in a cloud of perfume. Rumi's parents greeted them politely. Mira and Rumi stayed quiet.
When Celine explained the situation, Mira's father had the audacity to laugh. It was a very resonant sound, but not particularly joyful.
"Well, we all know what little Alphas are like, don't we?" He gripped Mira's jaw and shook her a bit. She pulled away, looking at him sternly.
"Nothing happened, Mira Abeonim, to be clear," Mi-yeong said. "They just shared Rumi's bed, as they did when they were children."
Mira's father nodded. "I see. Well, I'd love to discuss it a bit more, if you don't mind." He snapped his thick fingers, faintly yellowed with nicotine. "Mira, you and your mother go and wait in the car. I'll be there shortly."
Mira took Rumi's hand and squeezed it, just for a moment, before letting go and following her mother out the door.
"Rumi-ya," her Eomma said, touching her shoulder. "Can you go to your room, please?"
Rumi nodded, but instead lingered in the hallway, eavesdropping.
Mira had often described her father as a "three-piece suit". Rumi never really understood what that meant until he was sitting in her living room. "These PG schools are so old hat." Mira's father's tone was so slick and breezy that it made Rumi feel unsettled. "We only allowed Mira to attend because she insisted Sacred Heart had superior academic performance to the local Alpha academies. Not that it matters with all the… Distractions she's had."
Rumi's anger flared, and she clenched the doorjamb.
Mi-yeong spoke next. "I don't think I'd call Rumi and Mira's relationship a distraction. The girls support each other. Rumi even tutored—"
"That's beside the point, Rumi Eomonim," Mira's father said dismissively. "It's clear that what's happening now is affecting Mira's ability to focus on what's most important."
"I agree," Celine said. Rumi felt her stomach drop. Her Appa agreed? "Rumi has also been struggling with her priorities." Rumi had to swallow a scoff.
"It's good to hear we agree," Mira's father said. She heard him shifting in his seat. "We're working on the transfer process for Mira to a proper SG separated school, but until that time, we'd ask that you work on controlling Rumi's, let's say, impulses with Mira. I know it's only natural for an Alpha like her from a family like ours to attract a certain type of attention—"
Mi-yeong interjected, "I'm sorry. I'm confused."
"It's just to say, we have appreciated the friendship of the Kim family, but you have to understand that—we have no interest in a match between our daughters. Mira needs a mate who is of equal social standing."
Rumi heard her mother's tongue click. That was not a good sign.
Her tone rising, Mi-yeong said, "You believe our daughter is some kind of, what, social climber?"
"Mi-yeong," Celine warned.
"Not in those words, of course." Mira's father's voice turned saccharine. "She's a sweet girl, your Rumi. But what happens biologically to Omegas is—It's irrefutable. We've all seen the science. We don't want that for Mira."
Rumi heard another tongue click. She braced herself, but her Appa spoke first.
"I think we've reached the end of this conversation," Celine said diplomatically.
Mira's father cleared his throat. "Just so long as we're all having the same understanding—"
Celine cut him off as Rumi heard her get to her feet. "We'll encourage Rumi to keep her distance from Mira."
Rumi heard some shuffling, and she turned and scrambled back down the hall on her hands and knees, slipping into her room. She managed to climb back into her chair and try to appear unassuming at her desk when her parents came in.
"Rumi-ya," Celine began, voice warm but stern. "We need to talk to you about your relationship with Mira. Okay?"
Rumi nodded, although she was terrified, her heart still racing from everything she had overheard.
They explained that she was to give Mira and her family space. Mira was going to start at a new school soon, so she could focus more on her classwork. Rumi needed to respect that boundary.
But how could she? When all she wanted in the world was to see Mira.
They stole moments together in the weeks leading up to Mira's transfer. Kisses and cuddles on the bench in the park after school. Texting in bed late at night.
Mira's first day at the new school was tough.
"The Alpha academy is shit, and I fucking hate it there," Mira seethed. She ripped off her uniform tie and threw it down on the ground, stomping on it dramatically.
"Mira," Rumi said, gently. She touched her shoulder, and Mira lurched towards her, wrapping her up in a hug. Rumi stroked her back, shushing her.
"I hate the other Alphas, God, they're such knotheads." She sniffed. "And I miss you so much."
Rumi held her tightly. "I'm so sorry, Mira." Guilt gnawed at her, a dull ache. "It's—This is all my fault. I shouldn't have asked you to stay the night."
Mira shook her head, but said nothing. She just squeezed Rumi tighter.
"Say something, Mira, please."
Mira sniffed again. "Not your fault."
"But—"
"Not your fault," She repeated. "I didn't… I hadn't actually told them. About you. About any of it." Mira pulled back and looked down at Rumi's face. "That's why they were so upset."
Rumi bit her lip. She couldn't be sure if Mira knew her father's opinion or if she'd heard some version of it herself. She buried her face in Mira's chest, pushing it out of her mind.
It's not like it mattered now.
Summer was coming. She could feel it in the air. They'd have time over the break to figure something out.
Rumi's Eomma and Appa talked to her again about Mira. And again. And again.
Rumi had always been a good child. She had always tried to be. But what her parents were asking her to do felt cruel. She couldn't just walk away from Mira. She was her best friend. Her girlfriend. She realized over the course of those warm summer days that she even loved her.
She was sure of it.
Which was why, in late August, as they were lying next to each other on a picnic blanket, Rumi rolled over to face Mira and said, "I love you."
Mira's expression was so sweet. She blushed, smiled, and took Rumi's hand, kissing her knuckles. "I love you, too."
When she got home that evening, Mira's sweet scent still curling around her, she felt as if she were walking on air. At dinner, she ate happily. Her mood was altered enough that her Eomma asked, "Feeling better, Aegiya?"
Rumi only nodded, smiling.
That weekend, Rumi's parents sat her down in the living room and told her that they had been working hard to come up with a plan.
"A plan?" Rumi asked, mouth going dry.
Her parents exchanged a glance. Her Appa spoke first.
"Rumi. We know you've still been seeing Mira."
Rumi's heart dropped. She said nothing, but her expression was easy to read.
Her Eomma continued. "And we understand that it's difficult. So, your Appa and I have come up with a way to make it easier for you."
Anxiety wormed its way through Rumi's body, making her hands shake. "What do you mean?"
Her Appa took over again. "We are sending you to a school in California. It's an excellent—"
"No! No, I won't go!"
"Rumi," Celine warned. "Don't make me use my voice. Quiet now and listen."
Rumi bit her lip hard, tears in her eyes.
"The Archer School is going to be a perfect fit for you, Rumi-ya. Your Eomma and I spent a lot of time researching. You won't be so far from us, and we'll visit you regularly. When you graduate, you'll be ready to attend an American university."
Rumi wanted to speak, but no words came. Her eyes drifted to the floor as her Appa continued speaking. The American school year was about to start. She would leave in a week's time.
When Rumi found Mira later that day, she could barely explain through her tears. Mira held her, and they cried together. But in the end, Mira was resolute.
"I've already been thinking about it," Mira confessed. "Ever since I started this Alpha school."
"Thinking about what?" Rumi sniffed.
"Thinking about… About running away together." Mira looked pointedly at the ground. "My parents have this little safe in the back of their closet. It's got some cash and jewelry. I've been watching, and I know the code. It would be enough to get us an apartment somewhere."
Rumi felt sick. She clutched her stomach. "Mira, that's—"
"It's the only way we can be together, Rumi, haven't you heard what my parents said? What yours said? They don't want us together. They're doing all this to keep us apart."
Fresh tears streamed down Rumi's cheeks. She hugged Mira tightly. "I don't know what to do."
"Come with me. Rumi, please. We can be each other's family. We can be each other's pack."
Rumi thought back to the day they kissed, to the day her hindbrain dropped a thought into her mind like a stone in a pond, rippling outwards. She wanted Mira's mark then. She wanted it now. Subconsciously, she reached for her wrist, wrapping her fingers around it.
Mira noticed. She took Rumi's hand, pulling it up to her face and kissing her wrist. "Do you still want to?"
She nodded. "Please."
Turning her head, Mira gently took Rumi's wrist between her teeth. With her tongue, she woke the scent gland hiding there. It unfurled, Rumi's scent, like citrus and sunshine, filled the air between them. Mira's fangs exposed, she bit into Rumi's flesh. There was a sharp pain before Mira lapped at the wound with her tongue.
Then Rumi felt it. The bond flowing through her. She reached up and pulled Mira into a soft kiss. "I love you," she whispered.
"I love you, too," Mira said, before kissing her again.
That night, Rumi snuck Mira into her room to plan. They stayed up late, talking through the logistics in hushed whispers. They made packing lists and planned travel to Jeju, since Rumi knew it well.
She was so happy.
As they talked in bed, they grew tired. Their eyelids were drooping. Eventually, they both succumb to sleep, no longer afraid of the repercussions of their parents' expectations. They'd just as soon be free of them.
When she woke the next morning, Rumi thought how her bed had never felt so nice and warm. She stretched happily, nestling deeper into her duvet before she realized she wasn't alone. Beside her was Mira's sleeping form. The events of the previous evening came seeping back in.
Mira had marked her. They were Tied. Rumi's fingertips went to the gland on her wrist, still a little sore from where Mira's fangs had broken the skin. It was faint enough that with a little concealer, she prayed her parents wouldn't notice.
What she couldn't hide was…
Mira. In her bed. Again.
Ignoring her better instincts, Rumi curled up behind her. She made a small, low sound as Rumi slung her arm over her waist. "Good morning," she whispered into the back of Mira's neck. Mira grumbled something close to "good morning" back.
Mira picked up Rumi's arm and pressed a kiss to the mark on her wrist. It was a lightly tingly sensation that made her shiver. She pressed her face into the back of Mira's neck, squirming happily.
Rumi settled against her, letting the rhythm of her breathing in and out lull her back to sleep.
They had a reprieve that day. It was Sunday, and Rumi's parents had gone out early. When Mira left, they hugged and kissed goodbye, making a plan to meet at the train station that evening.
But Rumi never made it.
She was washing the dishes when her parents got home. Looking back, it was foolish. But she thought it was the perfect plan. She'd distract them by being good. By helping with the house without being asked.
But she'd rolled up her sleeves to do the work. And her Appa spotted the mark immediately.
The truth came out in a wave of tears.
They took her phone. They packed her bags for her.
She was on a flight to California by nightfall.
Rumi was beside herself at first, sobbing. Her Appa used her voice to calm her and help her sleep in the hotel. The next few days passed in a blur. Rumi felt numb.
Her parents got her moved into her dorm. Bought her the basics—toothpaste, shampoo, pencils, ramyun.
And then they were off.
The first weeks at the Archer School were wrenching. Rumi felt like she'd had a part of herself carved away. She stayed in her room and refused to come out for class or for meals. The dorm attendants tried to comfort her, tried to cajole her, and they even tried to punish her into compliance. Nothing worked.
Finally, her Eomma and Appa came back. A tiny part of her hoped that they would apologize and take her home. Let her be with Mira again as long as she promised to be careful.
But it didn't happen that way.
Instead, Appa sat her down with a plate of food and commanded her to eat. When she refused, she used her Alpha voice to force her. So Rumi ate, hands shaking. The food tasted like ash.
Her Eomma was sweeter but pushed her all the same. To attend class, to wake up on time, and to leave the room. They stayed for one week. At the end of it, Rumi still held out hope they'd take her back to Korea. But they didn't.
They did give her a phone, though.
"We're giving you this phone because we want you to know that we do trust you, Rumi," her Appa said.
Rumi had to bite her tongue not to snap back at her.
As soon as her parents had departed, she took the phone and hid in a stall in the dormitory bathroom. Hands shaking, she dialled Mira's phone number.
A discordant dial tone sounded, and a robotic voice announced, "The number you have dialled is no longer in service."
Rumi's heart seized. She hung up and dialled again, looking carefully at the numbers as she tapped them on the screen, to make absolutely certain she entered them correctly.
The same thing happened.
She dialled a third time. Then a fourth.
She sniffed, tears welling in her eyes. "Please, please." She typed it one more time.
The voice played again.
Tears streaming down her face, she held the line until it said, "Goodbye."