Chapter Text
Rumi didn’t enjoy folding laundry on the best of days.
But in the middle of the biggest heatwave in Korea, she would rather be doing almost anything else. Most of their building was running the AC on full blast, but not on the penthouse. Oh no, earlier that day Zoey had to go up to the roof to try a new trick. She wanted to see if she could grind down the side of the building on her skateboard. Things ended up going a little sideways and her skateboard embedded itself into their air conditioner. It turns out, finding a top of the line AC in the middle of the country’s biggest heat wave was difficult, even for Bobby. So for now, she would fold laundry to distract herself from actively melting.
As a child she loved going through her wardrobe to see what she could find. The colors, textures, prints and patterns opened her mind to a creative world she couldn’t explore very often. Demon hunters in training don’t have the luxury of self expression. That would come when you had a group with a specific image to focus on. Even then, everything should be run through a stylist or three just in case. Her opinion would be the last consulted.
When she was small, Celine would shop for her. ‘To spare the young legacy the need of shopping in a public setting.’ Once word got out that Ryu Rumi was in the mall, half of the stores would empty immediately to form a small audience blocking her exit. No, best to save the eleven year old, and Celine, some hassle by avoiding the whole trip all together.
Now, Rumi had come to despise laundry time. It was a constant reminder that her choices have already been made for her, as long as her patterns were still intact.
Each color, dark. Each material, tightly woven. Every cut, carefully considered. All that really mattered was concealing her ultimate shame. The one she is trying desperately to erase; her patterns.
Deep purple patterns wrapped her chest to the edge of her ribs. Before they raged across her shoulders, they dipped down to almost her elbow. Rumi knew she couldn’t hide this from her girls forever, but she simply hoped they would talk about them after they were gone. Once the honmoon was golden, everything would be alright. She would either be here pattern free with the people she loves, or where nothing mattered anymore.
Until that day she would hold on to her secret, and therefore her happiness with an iron grip.
Another option lay lingering in the back of her mind. It drifted, like curls of black smoke, into her mind on silent feet. It whispered her worst fears when she least expected it. It spoke like it knew the most obvious of answers.
“They know….”
They can’t know. They would have left her if they knew.
“They are pretending…. They don’t want you….”
Why would they pretend? Why not just get it over with?
“You know why…”
No. I don’t.
“Simple….. They pity you….poor little girl….”
No they are my best friends
“You don’t deserve it…. Deserve them….”
I don’t.
“You don’t deserve their gentleness……“
I know.
“How could you do this? Lie? Trick them into keeping company with a demon? Don’t you love them????”
They are my best friends. My world. Of course I love them. I would be so lucky as to have them be the ones to end me.
“They would if they knew about the patterns…..”
Good.
Knowing how important it is doesn’t mean it is an easy secret to keep. And sometimes, it was just plain annoying. In all the time Rumi had been hiding herself, there was just one thing she found more annoying than anything else; the suffocating heat.
Sweaters, turtle necks, and long sleeves filled her closet to the brim. Layers upon layers of protection against the outside world. No secrets out, no people in; just how she needed it.
Each morning as she would don her ‘breathable’ fabric, she made a silent promise to herself. When the patterns were finally gone, she would never wear sleeves in the warm season again. This promise of respite, daring to dream of a more comfortable existence.
The breath of a morning sunrise on her bare skin. The pulse of the golden noon hour radiated on her back while she laughed with her girls over their picnic. The satisfaction of diving in the pool on a muggy afternoon. She could almost taste it all. It meant knowing she could finally be herself. She could finally share all of her with the ones she cherished the most.
Each and every fantasy had Zoey and Mira in the background; blurry and just out of reach. She couldn’t imagine what their faces would look like. Wouldn’t. She didn’t deserve it. Not yet.
So now she folds laundry, the floor fan struggling to combat the early August heat. Rumi was wearing her lightest hoodie, and tank top in an effort to save herself, but it was no use. Record high temperatures had made the heat dance in waves off pavement below for more than a week. But today was the hottest day by far. Thermometers pushing 38 C° had the whole city of Seoul on a high heat warning. Libraries, community centers, and more were opening their doors to those in need. Still, a few hospitalizations and one death have already been reported.
With the best AC money could buy the girls were as well set up as they could be. Laundry done, Rumi ventured to the living to see what her friends were up to. The rest of the house was laying in crop tops and shorts to battle the worst of it.
Mira’s impossibly long legs extended over the arm of the couch. She lay on her back, holding a book in an extended arm to ‘get more air flow’ as she read. Rumi looked as the soft flow of her hair fanned out in a messy wave behind her. Mira’s glasses were on, and she was staring at the book like it had insulted her.
Rumi couldn’t help but smile.
She turned to look at Zoey, eyes wide and breath catching. The makane in question opted for a full starfish on the cool tile floor of the dining room, eyes glued to her switch. Her recent game of Hades II had been replaced with a much calmer alternative; Untitled Goose Game. Zoey stuck her tongue out slightly as she played a particularly difficult moment, her cheeks dusted with both freckles and sweat. The maknae was on her stomach under the table, as if hiding under it would protect her from the heat.
Rumi’s smile turned into a small chuckle at the sight. Sure, she hated being overly warm too, but this was ridiculous.
Mira looked up from her book with a biting comment about how not everyone liked boiling alive in summer, when the Honmoon shuddered.
Groans of discontent filled the air as the hunters were reminded of their responsibility. Each moment would cost lives. Heat or no unbearable heat. Each grabbed shoes and a quick ‘disguise’ in case they were spotted.
“Hey hot stuff, pick up the pace!” called Mira, smirking.
Zoey slid into the elevator behind an exasperated Rumi and Mira with a shy smile, holding up an offending mini backpack with a water bottle and fan for explanation.
The elevator dropped them to the third floor of their building, doors opening to a blast of summer heat in the somewhat finished space. Rumi was already pressing through with three quarters of the doorway open when everything suddenly went dark. Zoey squeaked in surprise as Mira let out a grunt of ‘can this get any worse’ before shouldering the doors all the way open. They could deal with the blackout later, right now, they had souls to save. Each girl ran with purpose through the perpetually ‘under construction’ floor that they kept empty for moments like these. The large window at the far end of the space shone like a floating goal marker lighting the end of a dark tunnel.
Jumping through the open window without hesitation, the afternoon heat greeted them with open, suffocating, affection. Rumi loved the sensation of flying through the air. It was one of the few times she felt safely out of control. The fall is always calculated, confident. Her moment of perfect freedom in chaos. It was addicting.
They chased the prickle of unease across the city, rooftop to rooftop. Heat radiated from the concrete below them, nearly cooking Rumi inside her sleeves. No amount of freefall bliss could stop it from consuming her consciousness. If she thought the heat was bad before, this was unbearable.
Fighting for breath in a torrid air, the three of them pushed further. It was farther than usual from the tower, and the heat had them all breathing harder than they would have liked before a fight. Thankfully, or concerningly, the tear was easy to find. The city wide black out made the blue and violet light coming from dark windows stand out.
The three slid silently onto a nearby roof, analyzing the scene before them. The power plant was in the middle of an industrial park. In fact, it took up half of the district with its barbed wire fencing. Its tall smoke stacks were empty, and no hum of electricity flowing was to be found.
With most of the city using electricity for the heat, Rumi had expected a blackout may happen, but a demon caused blackout is even worse. They spotted the tear in the middle of the open yard of coils. Large and almost angry, like the lines of a jagged grimace. Sparks were still sputtering from some damaged machinery nearby as demons emerged from the opening. Zoey dropped her bag as they all drew their weapons. Mira paused, and cursed under her breath. This place should be swarming with people trying to make repairs, but she couldn’t find any. They were already taken.
“Okay game time. Let’s get this over with and we can go home,” Rumi said, trying to motivate herself as much as her team. Her sweatshirt rubbed uncomfortably against her, sticking with sweat.
“Yeah and deal some payback to these losers in the meantime,” declared Mira. “They will pay for every soul-”
“And every loss of air conditioning tenfold!” yelled Zoey, her eyes alight with annoyance.
In one fluid motion, they jumped to the center of it all.
Mira landed first, gokdo flashing in the afternoon sun as she hummed a tune. Down went two demons, collapsing into dust before they realized what was happening. Nearby, Zoey sent three knives flying, nodding her head in rhythm to Mira’s attack. Two found their targets, sinking into soft flesh before falling to the floor. The third knife wasn’t so lucky. It glanced off the shoulder armor of a demon who locked its glowing eyes on her. She bounded away like nothing had happened, hips bumping to a beat only she could hear. She was a blur of chaotic flow, that just screamed Zoey.
Rumi was the last to land, saingeom roughly chopping into the shoulder of the demon in front of her. She withdrew her sword and slashed toward another, her usual grace replaced with sheer will. The heat and the mad dash across rooftops really did a number on her. Sweat dripped places it really shouldn’t be, and more importantly: she didn’t know how long she could keep this up.
The fight continued. More demons came, advancing though the tear in an effort to keep it open. Mira and Zoey held their own, breathing hard in the humid air. Each one danced through their moves to keep on the same beat, but their smiles were gone. This was when endurance training really mattered. The weight of the air dragged on their weapons. The oppressive sunlight settled like a fog over the concrete and metal maze. It smothered everything in a weighted blanket, even as sparks threatened their every move. No one can fight in these conditions while in a sweatshirt.
No one unfortunately included Rumi.
She trembled in exertion: her sweat clung to her like a second skin. Frantically, she cast a quick glance at Zoey and Mira. They were totally absorbed in the fight, maybe she could just…
Rumi ducked under the clumsy swing of a demon with one large eye. She kicked it in the chest, sending it flying into a transformer. The light show that resulted made Rumi’s stomach turn. It also gave her an opportunity. She careened to their previous rooftop, dropped to her knees and grabbed the water bottle from Zoey’s bag. Quickly, she pulled the bottom of her hoodie up long enough to drench her skin in the cooling liquid. The remainder she poured over her face and neck with a satisfied grunt.
Only with the hoodie securely back in place did she stand to get back into the fray.
Rumi gripped her saingeom in a reverse twohanded grip, and launched herself off the roof. Her battle song pierced the air; sharp, powerful, and vibrant.
Mira’s heart stuttered in her chest. Seeing Rumi like this took her breath away each time. Most of the time, their leader would have so many walls up it was hard to see her true emotions, but not when she was fighting.
Here she was in her element. No hesitation. No anxiety. Just confidence and power. It was intoxicating to witness. Despite her visible exhaustion to Mira and Zoey, Rumi always looked radiant.
The hum of the chorus to How It’s Done sunk into the battlefield with Rumi’s saingeom. The resulting pulse of power destroyed the demons immediately next to her, and knocked the rest back.
Rumi looked up in surprise, confusion mixing with the sweat on her brow. That should have been more effective. Ideally, it should have taken out all the demons around her and her girls. She had only risked the move because it should have ended the fight then and there. It should be a lot of things. Now she had just used most of her remaining energy, and had to keep fighting in the heat.
Determined, Rumi launched herself at the nearest monster. She stumbled, still disoriented and almost met the business end of a club in the process. The world tilted drastically as she dodged; spots darkening her eyes.
“Not now-not-now-not now” she thought hurriedly. She could hear Celine’s voice in her head as she dodged and struggled to regain control of her breathing. Once, after a grueling day of practice in the summer sun, Celine had told her “to faint in a fight is unacceptable. More than that. It will prove fatal.” A moment later, she poked Rumi in the shoulder and sent her tumbling to the floor of the practice court. Out cold from over doing it and not taking care of herself.
“Rumi!” yelled Mira.
Snapping back to the present just a breath too late, Rumi felt it.
The hammer slammed into her rib cage with a sickening CRUNCH. Her right ribs cracked as Rumi stifled a shout. She slid back a few feet and clutched her side. Upright but wide eyed in shock.
She wasn’t like this. She was never like this.
Why now? When they were so close to the golden honmoon.
It couldn’t just be the heat, it was more. She had been distracted for the last several days. Her patterns were growing. She could feel them, burning against her skin in moments she least expects. Around the dinner table when Zoey gives a dramatic reading of a ridiculous fanfic; complete with voices and dramatic expressions. Watching Mira in the studio. Her eyes flashing with passion and focus as she sought her next move for their new choreo. Late night movie marathons, when both her bandmates fell asleep on her shoulders in a gentle cuddle puddle.
In each moment, she had found her reflection somewhere in the space. Her face in the sparkling glass dinner table, or the studio mirror or the dark TV screen. She would look for a moment, feeling like the happiest person in the world, and look away with a new inch of burning patterns. She should know what she can’t have by now, what she couldn’t bear to want.
And now she had let her thoughts, the heat, it didn’t matter which, distract her long enough to get hurt. Before she was in trouble, but now she was in deep shit. Rumi lunged out of the way of the next attack, gasping in pain and humiliation. She should have dodged that easily. Zoey and Mira shot her concerned looks, and renewed their efforts. Their attacks laced with a fire that burned hotter than the day outside.
Rumi dodged, spun, and countered demon after demon. Even with a few ribs in bad shape, she was still keeping up with the fight- at least for a few minutes. Before her heatstroke started to override the adrenaline.
“Why” -smack-
“Are” -slice-
“They” -slice-
“Breaking”-woosh-
“Everyone’s” -smack-
“AC?” -woosh- said Mira between strikes.
Zoey swept a demon’s legs out from under him, threw two shin-kal in their chest, and huffed out “Who cares? They just need to die in their shame.”
Rumi stuttered in her movements, blood rushing in her ears. Need to die? From their shame as demons? Was that what they would think of her? The questions flashed over and over in her mind.
“Rumi!” This time it was Zoey who shouted, a second too late. A second time.
Again, she felt a sharp pain, this time across her back. A long jagged piece of metal stuck out of an old piece of wood for a makeshift sword. The demon who held it smiled at Rumi as she fell forward.
Her eyes grew dim around the edges despite her best efforts. Ahead of her Mira and Zoey turned to her in horror as she pitched forward onto her knees.
Dumb mistake.
The thought presses on her temples, to add familiar black smoke to the storm behind her eyes.
She got lucky the first time. How could she let a little thing like heat bring her this low? She was supposed to be the leader goddamn it; be stronger than this.
She gained a fleeting moment of clarity so she could memorize their features. She saw a range of emotions pass across their faces. Anguish. Panic. Rage. Fear. She saw it all, and was grateful to have them be the last thing she would see.
Ridiculously, Rumi dropping unconscious is what saved her. Her sudden drop made the weapon leveled at her head miss dramatically. The fish-like demon was so surprised it let the weapon throw him off balance and into the sword demon. They collided, arms flailing in surprise as shinkal sank into their necks and backs.
Their ashes drifted downward, only to be stirred into motion again as Zoey slid through to catch Rumi’s fall. Rumi’s head lolled bonelessly to Zoey’s shoulder. Collar drenched and her breathing shallow.
Mira landed in front of both of them. Her gokdo hilt slammed into the ground. A more powerful shockwave rippled through the honmoon. The demons in the immediate area are turned to ash, panic written on their faces. Mira continued her onslaught, weapon a blur of rage born from fear. In seconds the flood of enemies had slowed to a trickle, then nothing.
As the last demon goes down, Mira pauses. A spike of renewed dread shivered visibly up her spine. She was afraid of what she would see.
Her momentary hesitation vanished with Zoey’s choked sob. Suddenly she needed to see Rumi like she needed air.
Their leader lay in Zoey’s arms, breath rapid but shallow. Sweat soaked the front of her sweatshirt; a strained expression planted on her face. Blood covered her back, the cut shallow but long and bleeding freely.
But it was her eyes that were most concerning. Rumi’s eyes stared hazily ahead. Despite Zoey calling her name, clutching her face and body, begging her to come back. Nothing registered. She was fighting to stay conscious and losing.
Above her, Zoey continued crying, and frantically checking for a visible head injury. She found none, but kept running her hands through the now messy braid and mumbling to herself.
“Why aren’t you waking up? Why?” Zoey pleaded, first to Rumi, then she locked on Mira, “What’s wrong with her? Her back’s bleeding, but she has endured worse.”
Mira fell to her knees in front of them, gokdo disappearing into the honmoon so she could reach out with shaky, sweaty hands.
Rumi’s eyes were closed now. Surrendering to her body.
“What happened?” Mira spit. It came out too sharp. Her gaze flicked to Zoey and she tried again.
“Just give me something. What happened right before?” She tried again, eyes pleading for grace.
Zoey’s frantic, one armed gesture was the only response. She was just as distraught as Mira, only with different coping mechanisms.
It was Mira’s turn to cup her hands around Rumi’s face. Her fingers cradled her clammy cheeks, and checked the pulse point on her neck. A rapid heartbeat thrummed under her slick skin. She paused, thinking quickly before it finally clicked.
“She has heatstroke!” she gasped.
Without another word Zoey whipped her head around, searching for her bag with the water bottle. She looked up and gasped, remembering it was on the previous roof. One look and they took off, Rumi in Zoey’s arms.
The scene on the roof was a mess. Zoey’s eyes darted back and forth, taking in the array. Really, it just didn’t make any sense. The discarded backpack upended with the water bottle drained. A few splashes of liquid on the ground in a scattered pattern.
The girls shared another hasty look; first to each other, then Rumi, then back again. They had come to the same conclusion. No matter what transpired here, their priority was always Rumi.
Now out of options, they had to think fast. What would wake Rumi up?
It clicked. Zoey transferred the delirious girl to Mira, and tore into the small front pocket of the backpack to pull out a tiny vial of roll on perfume.
She uncapped it with her teeth and pushed down on the rollerball inside. A sluggish trail of scented oils landed on Rumi’s face.
For a beat nothing happens.
Then the leader groaned and shifted, eyes fluttering with clarity.
“Thank the honmoon” they both breathed.
Dully, Rumi wondered if she was dead. However, another jostle to her position reminded her of the crushing pinch in her ribs and sting on her back. Mira’s strong arms supporting her were gentle, but they caused the slash on her back to throb painfully.
“Ah. What…what did I… I miss?” Rumi tried to smile reassuringly; it turned to a grimace.
Zoey laughed through relieved tears. Mira scoffed in disbelief, but her hands clutched the girl in her arms tighter for a fraction of a second. It drew a sharp breath from Rumi, but it was worth it.
For a moment everything looked like it would be okay.
But it couldn't last.
“What’s going on here?” The yell came from the parking lot. After all the commotion with the demon fight, the power not turning back on, someone was bound to have to check things out.
Zoey and Mira exchanged a quick glance, set their mouths in a grim line and took off. Overheating or not, it would not be good if the public found Huntrix at the center of a power plant disaster on the hottest day of the year.
Mira hefted Rumi high in her arms with a quick apology. Together they careened to the next building, and the next; going for speed and angles over grace.
With something like heatstroke, seconds mattered. Their leader sucked in a tight-lipped breath at the jerky movements, but did not speak again. Her eyes dropped with each moment, quickly returning to her state of half consciousness.
The shouts increased in volume behind them steadily. They dashed over buildings and barreled over obstacles like their life depended on it. In many ways it did.
Internally, Zoey was running through their options. She panicked when she couldn’t identify what was wrong with Rumi earlier, but she wouldn’t let herself falter again. There is no room for mistakes if you are a hunter. Your faults and fears must never be seen, had been drilled into her by Celine, and she wasn’t about to forget it. Now she just knew the consequences if she failed. Their apartment with its cool water and medical supplies was ages away, but Rumi didn’t have that long.
Mid thought spiral, Zoey saw it. Through an open window, she spotted their saving grace; a pool of water. She swerved drastically to the right, sliding and gripping for purchase on the gravel roof before righting herself and pitching forward again.
Mira didn’t hesitate to follow. She recognized the look in Zoey’s eyes: she had a plan.
They stopped by the window, Zoey flipping out her lockpick set with an urgency. This was one skill she had honed since high school. While getting out of lockers and through locked janitor closet doors had sucked at the time, she wouldn’t trade it for the world right now. Anything to delay the effects for Rumi. Anything for Rumi.
They dropped silently to the tile floor below. The spa was deserted. They couldn’t operate a business without power, and Mira doubted anyone would want to get more sweaty than it already was outside. The room was large, it had high ceilings with a skylight brightening a swirling mural of colors over the main pool. A separate, slightly smaller pool sat adjacent to the large one. It had a heat warning label that slightly marred the mural of billowing clouds that sat on the divider between the pools. Doors along the back wall held what they assumed to be a dry and wet sauna, but a lone skylight shone over the smallest pool is what drew Mira. The skylight itself was a perfect circle. A moon, with constellations painted around it to look like the night sky. The skylight shone on the smallest pool, labeled ‘cold plunge.’ She just hoped it was still chilled enough to help.
Mira stepped into the pool before pulling Rumi off of her and into the shallow water. Zoey stepped in too, hands gently guiding Rumi’s head to the edge of the tub and cradling her in the water to keep her upright. The room was dark save for the skylights. Shadows of light bounced off the disturbed water, making the room dance eerily around them.
Rumi was still breathing in shallow gasps and hiccups. Her eyes fluttered once, twice, before finally starting to open and focus. Her side ached, and her back stung in the cold water. Above her, haloed by filtered sunlight, were two angels brought to life.
Mira was on her right, analyzing every tiny movement on her face. She searched her eyes, as if the answer to every problem would be plainly written if she just looked hard enough.
Zoey hovered on her left, gently turning Rumi’s head to face her more directly. Her eyes were shining with tears. She was laughing slightly, like Rumi had given her the world by just opening her eyes.
Despite the pain and embarrassment of it all, Rumi felt herself smiling back. Her girls were everything to her. Her own rays of sunlight, the way it was meant to be felt; gentle, bright, and promising you a future.
Then a shadow passed over the skylight. And another, and another.