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The cold makes her skin crawl, especially on her shoulders and arms, now uncovered, as she looks down at the street.
Her jacket is behind her somewhere. Rumi should turn around, put it on, and go home to the girls.
Instead, she sits on the railing, breathing deeply and slowly.
The sky is beautiful tonight. The stars shine against the blue darkness, and a few people are still strolling the streets.
She wonders how many of them saw her mistake. How many of them hoped for something good, only to be disappointed by her.
Rumi was a Hunter, her voice should not falter, and her pains should be hidden. She did just the opposite.
Rumi takes a deep breath, her skin cold and her body a little shaky, and exhales.
By tomorrow, everyone will have witnessed what she did. She can imagine the tops and videos with theories about what happened to her. She can already see Celine's disappointed face.
(Because she doesn't need to imagine it, not when she knows that face so well, as she knows what she is: a monster.)
The fans must be angry or sad. And Mira and Zoey...
She would like to think they would be angry, because they have reason to be, but she is sure that they are waiting for her, seeking to understand her, because they are good, unlike Rumi, and for some reason, they care about her.
She'd like to understand why. What could they possibly like about her? They've seen behind the daughter of a member of Sunlight Sisters and the queen of K-Pop, they have seen Rumi. Her anxieties, her problems, and her half-truths.
She doesn't understand why they stay, not in the group, but under the same roof. Wouldn't their lives be happier if she weren't there to bother them? To overwork them? That way, they wouldn't have to worry about taking care of her, about including her when it's obvious that Rumi doesn't belong (even though she wants to, God she wants to).
Zoey and Mira love each other. They love each other more than they love her. She's seen it in the way Zoey smiles at her and rounds her shoulders, and the way Mira looks at her. That's okay. Rumi doesn't blame them. They are both excellent people, and she will be happy when they become a couple.
Even if that means she'll be further away from them. A third wheel they can't get rid of.
(She doesn't think about how Zoey sometimes laughs weirdly with her too, or how Mira's eyes sometimes scan her. It's easier to pretend it doesn't exist, because having the ability to have it and not getting it is worse than not having it and not getting it.)
She shouldn't worry. If they make the Honmoon golden, even though the girls will be together, Celine will be able to look at her and love her. They'll finally be able to spend time as mother and daughter. As it should have been, as Celine and Rumi always wanted.
But, she thinks as she looks down, fatigue weighing down every limb, that won't be soon.
The Honmoon was weakening. She was weakening it. When she screamed, for a second, Rumi thought it was going to shatter.
It didn't, and she thanks whatever god helped her, because destroying the very thing she swore to protect would make her become exactly what she fears so much: a demon. One on par with Gwi-Ma.
Her body shudders as she thinks about what would have become of her if that had happened. Celine would have killed her without hesitation, at least she hopes so. She wanted her to show mercy to Mira and Zoey. That she didn't force them to do it.
Both of them probably could, but as much as Rumi hates herself, she knows that they love her, and that it would hurt them to hurt her.
Although she shouldn't dwell on something that didn't happen. She has bigger problems. Her loss of voice, Gwi-Ma, the Honmoon, her secret.
"How will I do this?" She muttered to the wind, releasing her grip on the railing to rub her face.
The wind didn't respond, of course not, but a gust of wind whipped through her, cooling her increasingly warm skin.
Her patterns glowed in the darkness. They didn't extend any further, but they weren't still either. They were just... there.
As they always have been, and as they always will be, if she doesn't get herself fixed soon.
Her gaze shifts back down, shifting from the stars to the now-empty streets. She doesn't know how long she's been here. She thinks she didn't bring her cell phone, because the girls haven't called her, and the thought of worrying them even more makes her mouth sour, but she can't move.
Rumi sighs, swinging her legs.
Being at this altitude, in this place, with the wind as strong as it is today, should worry her. It should make her stomach swell with vertigo.
Instead, she feels a strange sense of calm wash over her. If she wanted, she could end all this, and not involve anyone, in any minute.
That doesn't mean she will, but having the option there, for when she needs it, is comforting. She doesn't want to be anyone's problem, not even in death. She's already burdened many people with her existence.
"I should..." Her voice trailed off, the wind carrying away the rest of the words she spoke softly.
She should go home. To the girls, tell them about her voice, apologize. Maybe form a plan, and then look for a cure.
"Rumi, what are you doing?"
A soft voice, a voice that shouldn't be here, interrupts her. Rumi wobbles slightly on the railing, but doesn't fall; that would be embarrassing.
"Zoey?" Rumi tilts her head. Close, but not too close, are Zoey and Mira, both looking at her, their skin pale.
Suddenly, Rumi remembers that her patterns are in plain sight, illuminating her and her small section of the roof in that shade of purple the three of them have grown to hate.
Her heart races, her balance falls a little.
She doesn't know how the girls got here, but she suspects they must have sensed the damage she did to the Honmoon, or they must have been following her from the moment she escaped.
Be that as it may, they've seen more than they should have. More than Rumi is allowed to show them.
"Rumi." Mira's voice is soft, even shaky. Has Rumi scared her that much? "Rumi, come here."
Rumi doesn't move. Fear rises in her stomach against her will.
Her patterns light up, spreading across her arms and neck as shame washes over her.
Zoey approaches, walking slowly, her hands raised in front of her, indicating she won't attack. Mira does the same.
They both stop as Rumi teeters dangerously close to the edge.
"Girls." She manages to say, the rest of the words stuck in her throat. "I'm- I'm sorry."
Tears sting her eyes, and this time, she lets them fall. Fatigue, frustration, anger, and sadness have finally caught up with her.
She barely notices her demonic voice, until she sees the girls shudder.
They're afraid.
Of her.
Bile rises in her throat.
Her hands tremble, and her heartbeat echoes in her ears.
She looks away, focusing on the street again. She can't see the girls like this. Not when it's her fault.
"Rumi, princess, come here." Mira approaches, her steps lighter than Zoey's, something they will never know if it was because of the dance, or because of her parents. Rumi barely registers the nickname at first, but when she does, she flinches. She doesn't deserve to hear that right now. "Please, Rumi."
Zoey's voice, shaky and painfully sad, joins in.
"Yes, Rumi. We're not...angry with you. Confused, yes, but not angry." A small nervous laugh escapes her lips. "But we can talk about it. At home. On our couch, or in Mira's room. Anywhere, except here."
"What's there to talk about? I'm a demon." Self-disgust seeps into her voice. "It's the only thing my dad left me, and I wish he hadn't done it."
Her patterns grow and widen. Now she no longer has nails, but claws, and the vision in one of her eyes feels different. Clearer and cleaner.
She doesn't know what she looks like, but what she does know is that she doesn't look like a human. She doesn't look like a Hunter, but rather like a prey.
"I'm supposed to lose these patterns when the Honmoon turns golden." She muttered when none of the girls said anything. "But I messed up again. My singing voice...is gone now, and I don't know why." Rumi takes a deep breath. "This was all a mistake. I am a mistake. Everything would be better if I hadn't been born."
A sharp intake of breath sounds behind her, but Rumi doesn't turn around. Quick, heavy footsteps against the ground are heard, and suddenly, two pairs of arms hold her firmly.
Rumi blinks stupidly, unable to process that the girls are hugging her, of all things.
Her patterns lighten to a less ugly purple. A tone she has never seen.
"You're not a mistake," Zoey says quickly, her voice firm. "You're Rumi, our Rumi, and we love you."
"A life without you is not something we want," Mira adds, breathing shakily. "You're our leader, our partner, and our friend. We would never want you to leave our lives, do you understand?"
Rumi nods, a lump in her throat, even though she doesn't truly believe what she's being told. Tears stream down her cheeks, and her claws disappear.
"And if you ever feel the need to do something like this again, just tell us, Rumi. We're here for you, demon or not."
Rumi freezes.
"Something like this?" She repeats. Are they referring to the lies? To her escape?
Zoey doesn't say anything, burying her face against her back. It's Mira who says it, her voice tense.
"Come here to kill yourself."
What?
Come here... to kill herself?
"I wasn't- I wasn't going to." She murmured, her voice barely audible over the night wind. "I wasn't going to do that today."
She'd thought about it, but that didn't mean she was going to do it. But...she guessed it looked like she was going to do it, sitting on a railing, in the middle of the night, high up.
Oh my god, is that why Mira and Zoey looked so pale when they saw her? Not because of her patterns, but because of what they thought she was going to do?
"So you were going to do it another day." Mira murmurs as Zoey's body tenses against hers.
"No." Her breathing quickened. "No, I wasn't going to do it, unless you girls..."
"Unless?" Zoey repeated weakly.
"Unless you girls wouldn't... accept me." Rumi licked her dry lips. "I didn't want you to bear that burden. Me."
Zoey shivered.
"Rumi..." Was all she could say, crying.
"We should...go home." Mira lifted them both into her arms, pulling them away from the edge. "We're not going to talk about this today. We're going to go home, rest, and spoil our brains with Zoey's Brainrot videos, while we hug each other in a pile and tomorrow... Tomorrow we will talk. Without lies, without half-truths."
"Ok."
"And Rumi?"
"Yeah?"
"I don't want to know what life would be like without you, and I won't forgive you if you make me or Zoey find out."
No one said anything when Rumi sobbed, but Zoey tightened her grip on her.
A part of Rumi wondered if they were doing this to remind themselves that she was alive, that she was here, with them.
She didn't want to know the answer.
"I won't, I promise."
"Good." Mira sighed, adjusting her grip on them. She didn't look at them, moving forward with a firm step. She would never let her guard down outside their shared home.
"I'm going to lend Mr. Turtle to you today," Zoey murmured with a watery laugh, rubbing het face against her. "He's soft and he always helps me when I feel...bad."
That sounded good. That stuffed animal was very soft, but, honestly...
"I think if I just have you two, I'll be fine."