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Mira remembers how happy Zoey was. She remembers the sound of her laugh, the warmth that spreads when Zoey smiles. She remembers her shrieking, giggly squeal - the one that she makes when Rumi tickles her or finds that sensitive spot by her jaw with her mouth.
Mira remembers the sound of Zoey’s lazy groans when she’s half asleep and isn’t ready to get out of bed in the morning. The sound is always shortly accompanied by Zoey burrowing further into one of their shoulders, cinching her arms around one of them so they’re pinned to the bed.
Mira remembers Zoey’s talent with words - the one Mira could never replicate no matter how hard she tries. She remembers Zoey’s talent in the studio, writing their songs with a pensive purse of her lips that quickly turns to a grin when she figures something out. Mira loves her words, especially the ones in the songs she writes just for them - the ones about how much she loves them both. Their fans will probably never hear them because they have to keep something just for themselves, but they’re Mira’s favorites.
Mira remembers how her chest fills with butterflies when Zoey kisses her lips.
Mira remembers how Zoey’s hand feels in her own. She remembers how Zoey’s fingers fidget, wiggling between hers or playing with her knuckles when she’s nervous. Mira remembers how Zoey’s shoulders drop when she kisses the back of her hand in earnest.
Mira knows Zoey is made of everything good in this world. She’s a mix of dandelions, the evening breeze, and fluffy clouds in the sky.
There are other things about Zoey that Mira could never forget, even if she tries.
The mischievous grin on her face as they run toward a demon fight.
The sound of her shin-kals whizzing through the air, striking true.
Her agonizing scream when a demon sinks its claws into her chest.
(It’s enough to drive Mira into madness.)
The horrid slap of flesh and bone on concrete when Zoey collapses.
(It echoes through Mira’s mind no matter how many times she wishes she could forget.)
The desperate way that Rumi and Mira call her name while they sprint over to her. It bounces off the buildings around them.
The way that Zoey tries to reach out to Mira and Rumi just before she goes limp. Rumi barely makes it to Zoey before her eyes close and her trembling hands fall at her sides.
The way the Honmoon flutters in anger, sending a ripple out across Seoul.
(Mira should have run faster once they realized. She should have been there to protect her.)
The color that stains the ground when Zoey bleeds. It soaks into her favorite turtle t-shirt. It coats Rumi’s hands. It coats Mira’s hands too when they both frantically try to stop the flow.
It makes Mira cry. The hot tears rolling down her face mimic the way her heart feels like it’s ripping in her chest, burning up inside her and melting like candle wax.
Crimson spills from Zoey’s chest, draining the flushed hue that accompanies the freckles on her cheekbones. The dark pigment creeps up Zoey’s neck despite Rumi and Mira’s attempts to slow and stop it.
“We’ve got to get her out of here,” Rumi says, scooping Zoey into her arms and beginning to get to her feet. “Celine can help.”
Mira nods while she stands on her shaking legs, reaching up to tuck Zoey’s forehead into Rumi’s neck. She ignores the tears that flood her cheeks.
“Hold onto me,” Rumi says.
Mira grips the back of Rumi’s jacket in one hand and brings her other arm around Zoey’s shoulders. She holds on tight, trying to find something stable so she can keep breathing.
The thought of losing Zoey is asphyxiating. It shouldn’t be her. Anyone but Zoey.
Mira wishes the world would take her instead. Not Zoey. Zoey is too good. Gwi-ma can have Mira instead. She’s fucked up enough. Mira would throw herself into the fire in a heartbeat to save Rumi and Zoey from anything that could hurt them.
In a flash Mira’s feet are on dirt, and then Rumi is calling for Celine. Rumi brought them to the Hunters’ Compound. It’s where Mira realized just how brilliant Zoey is. It’s where she made Zoey laugh so hard that she threw up in Rumi’s trash can.
Now it’s where Rumi’s brought them while Zoey gets colder by the second.
“Celine!” Rumi shouts, running toward the house.
Mira stumbles over her feet to catch up to her. She’s barely keeping a grip on reality while tears run down her face, but she stays close to Rumi when they enter Celine’s house.
“Celine!” Rumi calls again when the door shuts behind them. Mira gets close enough to grab the back of Rumi’s jacket again.
“Right here,” Celine says, rolling up one of her crisp white shirt sleeves. Mira should have known Celine would feel all of this anguish through the Honmoon, but she’s been a little more focused on Zoey. “Rumi, take her to the back room.” When Rumi steps away from her to follow Celine’s instructions, Mira forgets how to breathe for a moment. “Mira, IV and blood are in the fridge.”
Blood. IV.
It’s enough to get air back in her lungs. She can focus on something else - anything but the blood still pouring from Zoey’s chest.
Mira nods, heading for the fridge in Celine’s kitchen. She hears Celine with Rumi in the hall.
“Zoey, dear, can you hear me?”
Mira grabs the two bags of fluid from the fridge, then rushes into the back room. She’s just in time to see Rumi laying Zoey down on a bed and Celine pulling out a handful of gauze.
“Just hang on,” Celine adds, pressing down on Zoey’s wound. “You’re going to be alright.”
Everything else is a blur to Mira. She sets up the IV and gets the blood ready for a transfusion. Rumi and Celine try to slow Zoey’s bleeding while they figure out just how bad it actually is.
Mira protests when Celine says they need to cut off Zoey’s t-shirt - it’s Zoey’s favorite from their trip to an aquarium in the United States. It’s a light blue and green tie-dye with a massive loggerhead turtle printed on it.
“It’s already ripped and ruined,” Celine argues.
“She would be devastated,” Mira says. “You can’t cut it off.”
“Let me get it off her,” Rumi interjects, reaching for the hem of the t-shirt. “Mira’s right.”
“It’s going to take time. Time that we don’t have,” Celine replies.
“I’m saving the shirt for her,” Rumi says. “You save her.”
Rumi and Mira manage to get Zoey upright just enough to wiggle the t-shirt off of her, then Celine and Rumi get back to Zoey’s wound.
Mira leaves the room to soak Zoey’s t-shirt in stain remover and throw it in the washing machine on high. When she comes back, Mira finally puts eyes on the three deep claw marks across Zoey’s sternum and remembers how Zoey’s blood stained the cement in the alley.
Mira hears Zoey’s scream again. She can’t get the sound of her body hitting the ground out of her head.
Once more, Mira wishes the world would take her instead of Zoey.
“I can stitch it up, but she’ll need that blood,” Celine announces. “Prep me a needle, Rumi-ya?”
Celine and Rumi stitch up Zoey’s chest. Mira tries to stay strong, to just get through everything so she can fall apart later. Her eyes linger on Rumi’s hand, so steadily still on Zoey’s pale forehead. It’s the one anchor point she has, so she stares.
Zoey’s eyes are closed.
(She screamed so loud.)
Her face is so pale.
(Her blood spilled everywhere. It dripped into the cracks in the pavement. It soaked into so much fabric.)
Zoey can’t smile.
(Mira should have been there.)
Zoey can’t laugh.
(Mira should have been there.)
Her eyes aren’t even moving underneath her eyelids like they do when she dreams.
(It should have been her. She should have been there to take the hit instead.)
Zoey was so cold in Rumi’s arms.
(What would she do without Zoey’s warmth? One of the only people that sees through her hard exterior, right into her heavy heart?)
“Mira.”
Mira can’t breathe.
Rumi’s kneeling right in front of her.
“Yeon-in sonyeo,” Rumi whispers. Mira’s gaze flicks to her eyes. “Breathe for me, Mir.”
Her chest is so tight, stricken with panic. It won’t budge.
“I need you to breathe,” Rumi says gently, placing a soft hand over Mira’s heart. “I need you, Mira.”
Rumi needs her.
Rumi needs her.
“Ru,” Mira gasps, her inhales short and shaky.
“It’s me. Breathe, Mir,” Rumi whispers.
Rumi wills it, and just as easy as that… Mira starts to breathe. Her exhales are shaky and messy, but her breaths are deeper.
“Just like that,” Rumi says. Mira can feel Rumi’s thumb stroking her cheek. “It’s going to be okay.”
Mira tries to focus on Rumi - she might spiral again if she thinks about Zoey.
She follows Rumi’s eyes, darting around to search her face.
She notes the way Rumi nervously bites her lip.
She feels Rumi’s hands on her - one cupping her face, the other on her shoulder.
Rumi feels so steady, despite looking as unmoored as Mira feels when she sits against the wall with her knees pulled tightly into her chest. Even so, she’s breathing deeply again.
“She’s going to be okay,” Rumi whispers, tucking a lock of Mira’s hair behind her ear. “Celine stitched her up. I started the transfusion.”
“And I freaked out in the corner,” Mira whispers, her chin dropping to her chest.
“Hey, don’t do that,” Rumi says, cupping her face in both hands so their gazes meet again. “Zoey’s going to be okay, and that’s all that matters.” She leans in and kisses Mira’s forehead. “If it makes you feel better, my world was crashing down too.”
“You just didn’t let it get the better of you,” Mira mumbles.
“No,” Rumi corrects. “I just had too much to do with my hands to think too hard about it.” Mira sees Rumi’s eyes turn glassy. “Not until now… and now I really need a hug.”
Mira moves to pull Rumi into her arms, letting her knees drop to the side so she can pull her closer. Rumi sniffles the same way she always does when she’s about to cry.
“Me too,” Mira whimpers, holding onto the back of Rumi’s neck with one hand and the back of Rumi’s jacket with the other. She feels a fresh wave of tears form at the edge of her eyelids.
Rumi’s head tucks against Mira’s shoulder and bicep, trying to bury herself in her embrace.
“I-I can’t lose her,” Mira mumbles, her voice wavering when she finally sobs into Rumi’s shoulder.
When Rumi holds onto her for dear life, Mira does the same, taking a fistful of Rumi’s jacket in her hand and pressing her forehead into the crook of her neck. Rumi’s arm is securely wrapped around Mira’s ribcage, squeezing just hard enough to keep her tethered.
Mira’s shuddering chest is enough to spur on Rumi. She lets her tears flow. Her whimpering, strained cries shake Mira’s bones. Her heart clenches when Rumi sinks into her arms, letting Mira just hold her. Mira clings to her just as hard, never wanting Rumi to be further away than she is right now.
Mira’s not sure how much time passes - minutes definitely, hours maybe. Rumi and Mira barely move, even after their tears slow. Mira never wants to resurface from where her face is tucked into Rumi’s neck.
But Celine clears her throat. Mira feels Rumi barely pull away from her shoulder, prompting her to look up as well. Celine’s holding two steaming mugs of tea.
“Stay as long as you need,” she says, setting the mugs on a nearby table. “But you should probably wash up. I’ve got some extra clothes here while yours go in the laundry. There are towels in the bathroom.”
“Thank you,” Rumi mutters with a sniffle, lifting her head fully to look up at Celine.
“I’m always happy to have you three here,” she adds. “Can I get you anything?”
“I think we’ll be okay.”
“Let me know if there’s anything else I can do to help. I’ll be down the hall,” Celine says, leaving the room and shutting the door behind her.
“We should shower,” Rumi mutters, stroking up and down Mira’s back.
Mira wishes she could just stay right here, hugging Rumi until all of this is over. Everything they’ve ever faced has been easier with Rumi and Zoey at her side. Being witness to Zoey fighting off death has hurt her more than having Gwi-Ma in her head.
She’d rather sit on the floor with her back to the wall where she can clutch Rumi close and ignore the pain in her chest - the one that reminds her how Zoey bled so quickly.
“I don’t want to move,” Mira replies.
“I know, but… we need to get her blood off of us,” Rumi whispers.
Mira doesn’t even want to know what she looks like at the moment. She doesn’t want to see just how coated she is in Zoey.
Her eyes flick up and she sees her laying limp in the bed, the IV standing at her bedside. Mira looks away before she spirals again, but that pain in her chest is still there.
“Come on,” Rumi encourages, pulling away from Mira to look in her eyes. Mira very reluctantly lets her arms fall away. “You’ll feel better after the shower.”
Mira shakes her head.
“We both know I can carry you into the bathroom,” Rumi says. “But I don’t want to.”
“I guess you’re going to have to because I’m not go-- HEY!”
Rumi scoops her arms under Mira’s legs and wraps them around her waist, then sits up on her knees. Mira grasps Rumi’s shoulders for balance when she gets to her feet.
“Ru, put me down.”
“No. You need a shower.” Rumi walks them into the bathroom and shuts the door behind her.
“I don’t want to right now.”
“Too bad.”
Despite the struggle that Mira puts up, Rumi does manage to get Mira’s clothes off of her and gets her into the shower. Unfortunately for Rumi, Mira pulls her into the warm spray of water while she’s still fully clothed. She gets to laugh while Rumi struggles getting the now wet clothing off so she can join her properly.
(Mira doesn’t realize just how much of Zoey’s blood got on both of them until she glances at the pile of soiled clothing on the floor.)
They take turns washing each other’s skin, taking particular care where it’s stained red. Rumi is gentle when she scrubs the dried blood from underneath Mira’s fingernails. Mira tries to reciprocate the gesture, but can’t help the tears that come to the surface. Rumi uses her free hand to cup Mira’s cheek and wipe them away.
“What would make this easier?” Rumi asks.
There’s almost nothing that would make this night easier for Mira. And there’s nothing that she can do that would actually make her feel better about the situation.
“If it was me and not her,” Mira mutters, putting down the nail brush. “I can’t stand it when they hurt Zoey.”
Rumi sighs, bringing her free hand to cup Mira’s jaw.
“I can’t stand it either. She’s just so good,” Rumi replies. “But I don’t want you in that bed. I don’t want either of you in that bed.” She moves her hand, placing her palm over the demon claw scars on Mira’s chest. The wounds were deeper than Zoey’s, but they didn’t bleed so aggressively. “I hate this part of all of it.”
“What part?”
“The part where one of us gets hurt,” Rumi says.
Mira would do anything to keep Rumi and Zoey from more harm. She knows they would do the same. After everything they’ve been through, the idea of any of them having to endure more pain is simply abhorrent. They’ve crowded around too many hospital beds, endured too many sets of stitches, gone through too much gauze.
They continue for the fate of the world. They continue for their fans. But most of all, they continue for each other - to try and keep each other safe, to take care of each other, and to love each other through it all.
“Me too,” Mira replies. “I love both of you too much.”
“I love you too,” Rumi whispers, stepping in to kiss Mira on the lips. Her hands find purchase on Mira’s waist, keeping her close. They pull away after a long second. “Let me get the blood off your arms, then we can check on Zoey.”
“I need another hug first,” Mira whispers, reaching for Rumi’s hips. To her relief, Rumi cracks a little smile and presses a soft kiss to her jaw, then wraps her arms around her back. One palm smooths across her shoulder blades. The other stays steady around her lower back.
Mira relaxes right into Rumi’s hold, letting both of her arms encircle her waist. She drops a kiss to Rumi’s wet shoulder, tucking her nose against her neck and shutting her eyes.
Her heart still aches, just a little less with Rumi in her arms.
Once Mira and Rumi are dry and dressed in clean clothes, they place themselves at Zoey’s bedside. Her blood transfusion is nearly complete. When Mira moves to lay next to Zoey, she notices the color has come back to her cheeks and she’s breathing deeply. Seeing her improved state makes it easier to sit at her side.
Mira spends her time gently undoing Zoey’s space buns, letting her hair fall softly on the pillow. She combs through her hair, untangling her waves as she goes. Every time Mira spots dried blood on Zoey’s skin, she wipes it away with a warm washcloth.
Zoey finishes her blood transfusion. Just before Rumi attaches a bag of saline to Zoey’s IV, she and Mira are able to get her into a clean, soft t-shirt - they are careful not to jostle Celine’s expert gauze work.
Rumi attaches Zoey’s IV, then leaves and returns with Zoey’s turtle t-shirt. When Mira takes a look at it, she sees the three distinct gashes from the demon’s claws, and just a hint of the blood stains that were in the shirt before she threw it in the washer. Mira takes the bottom hem of the shirt, rubbing the fabric between her fingertips while she stares at the rips in the shirt.
“It looks much better than it did,” Rumi says. “Considering… y’know… everything.”
Mira is grateful that Rumi doesn’t mention the blood, but she knows what she means anyways.
“Can you find me a needle and some thread?” Mira asks. “I want to stitch it up.”
Mira’s never been the best at sewing. It was a skill she never needed growing up - her family had more than enough people to do it for her, and the family seamstresses could make her anything she ever wanted. Her stitching is good enough to get by, but by no means super clean.
While Rumi sleeps beside Zoey, Mira works on stitching the shirt back together. She tries to match the thread to the turtle, though Celine has slim choices on thread colors at 2:00 AM. It takes Mira a while, but eventually she stitches up all three rips. Her handiwork is a tad messy, but she doesn’t think Zoey will mind too much - she once spilled coffee on this shirt and still wore it with the stain until it faded.
By the time Mira sets the shirt aside, she realizes it’s almost 4:00 AM. She turns off the lamp on her side of the bed, shimmying to lay flat beside Zoey. In the darkness, Mira can make out Rumi’s arm thrown across Zoey to hold the wrist on Mira’s side.
Zoey’s hand sits limply on top of the covers.
Mira slips her fingers underneath Zoey’s. Her fingers rest on top of Mira’s, feeling much warmer than earlier. Mira runs her thumb across Zoey’s knuckles while she falls asleep.
She wakes far too soon. Mira’s still tired when the sun shines in her face through the bedroom window. When she turns her head over her shoulder to look at the time, Mira realizes that she’s not the only one awake. Celine’s standing against the doorway, just watching them.
“Did I wake you?” Celine asks softly.
Mira shakes her head. “The sun,” she replies groggily.
“You look like you’ve barely slept,” Celine tsks.
“What time is it?”
“Nearly seven in the morning.”
“I have barely slept,” Mira states.
Celine makes an unsatisfied noise to herself. “Would you like some tea? I was going to make some.”
“I’m okay right now,” she replies. “Thank you.”
“Let me know if you change your mind.” Celine walks down the hall, leaving Mira alone with her two girlfriends.
When Mira looks across the bed, she sees Zoey and Rumi have barely moved since she fell asleep. Rumi’s hand is still resting on Zoey’s wrist. Zoey’s fingers are still limp against Mira’s. Rumi is still soundly asleep beside Zoey, her nose barely touching her shoulder.
Mira gently tucks a lock of black hair behind Zoey’s ear, then moves to Rumi to do the same with a featherlight touch. Rumi’s always been a sensitive sleeper, so it’s not very surprising when Mira’s light touch on her forehead wakes her up.
“Hm?” Rumi grumbles, her eyes barely open.
“Sorry,” Mira mutters. “Just getting a few hairs out of your face.”
“S’okay,” Rumi whispers. “Zo ‘wake?”
“Not yet, nae sarang.”
Rumi sighs softly. “I wanted to see her smile.”
Mira reaches over and brushes some of the hair at Rumi’s temple with her fingertips. “Me too,” she replies. “I miss her.” She’d be more specific, but the truth is that she misses every single part of Zoey. She misses the big things and the little ones - the little quirks that make Zoey theirs.
Mira thinks she might be okay if she can just hear Zoey speak again. Her voice cuts through all the other noise in Mira’s head. She loves hearing Zoey talk - about anything, really. She has so much to say, and Mira wants to hear it all. (She also thinks it’s hot when Zoey starts rambling about something nerdy. She’s so smart that it turns her on.)
Just when Mira thinks it could be days until she gets to hear Zoey again, she feels very light pressure against her fingers.
Mira looks down and sees Zoey’s trying to hold her hand. Her fingers are curled ever so slightly. Rumi must notice something too, because she shifts in the bed, sitting up slightly as she becomes more alert.
“Zoey?” Rumi asks softly, her thumb beginning to stroke Zoey’s wrist.
Mira leans in and dusts a kiss to Zoey’s forehead. “Please wake up, aein,” she mutters against her skin. She presses their foreheads together, closing her eyes and hoping for the best.
Several moments pass… but then--
“Hi.”
It’s the smallest word. Zoey’s voice is so quiet, rough, and cracked when it comes out of her mouth that Mira thinks she imagined it. Her fingers curl a little tighter around Mira’s, and that’s when she realizes it’s actually happening.
“Welcome back,” Rumi whispers, kissing the crown of Zoey’s head, then resting her forehead against it.
Mira finds herself fighting tears again, especially when the bridge of Zoey’s nose brushes against her forehead. “Please don’t ever do that again,” she whispers. “Please don’t leave us like that.”
“I won’t,” Zoey breathes, nuzzling against Mira. She laces their fingers together to the first knuckle. “You’re stuck with me, gwiyomi.”
When Mira laughs softly, a tear falls from her eye, splashing on Zoey’s cheek. “I love you,” she whispers, pressing another kiss to Zoey’s forehead. When Mira pulls away, Zoey’s grinning sleepily.
Her little smile is enough to stitch Mira’s heart back together again.
“We missed you so much, yeobo,” Rumi whispers, kissing Zoey’s cheek.
“You guys are so warm,” Zoey says, sinking further into the bed between them. “Comfy. Except my chest. It hurts.”
“That demon got you good,” Rumi tells her. “You’ll be okay. We’ll kiss you and make it better.”
“You know how I like kisses,” Zoey jokes, coming back into consciousness more with each second. “I like kisses as much as I like turtles.”
“I’m well aware,” Rumi replies, peppering a few kisses along her cheek. “Speaking of turtles, actually, I think Mira has something to share.”
Zoey turns to look Mira in the eye again, a bit more awake now. “Did I miss a scientific discovery?” she asks seriously, seeming legitimately concerned.
“No, aein,” Mira chuckles. “You were wearing your favorite turtle shirt last night when everything happened. I stitched it up for you.” She reaches toward the night stand and pulls out the shirt for Zoey to see. “I’m not great at sewing, but--”
“Gwiyomi,” Zoey mutters. “You fixed it? For me?”
“Of course,” Mira replies. “You love this shirt.”
“She saved it from Celine’s shears,” Rumi adds. “She wanted to cut it off you, but Mira knew you’d be sad about your shirt.”
“Celine never would have lived it down,” Zoey adds, reaching for the shirt to see the stitching. “She still might not. I haven’t decided yet.”
“It’s a little rough, but I tried my best,” Mira tells her. “I got the blood out of it first, then I took care of the holes. Sorry it’s--”
“It’s perfect,” Zoey tells her. “Mir, it’s perfect. Thank you.”
“Of course,” Mira replies, tucking Zoey’s hair behind her ear again. “Anything for you, aein.”
“Anything?”
“Anything,” Mira confirms.
“Buy me the new Tomodachi Life game?” Zoey asks.
Mira laughs outright - the true laugh that only her girls can get out of her. Despite them each being quite wealthy as a result of their successful K-Pop careers, Zoey still wants her to buy her a video game. She knows just how to catch Mira off guard with her humor.
“I love you, Zoey,” Mira says, cupping her jaw in both hands while Zoey grins. She presses their lips together for a few slow kisses. “Never change,” she whispers between kisses. Zoey laughs against her lips.
“I love you, too,” Zoey whispers, pulling away so she can look into Mira’s eyes. Her head turns away, and Mira remembers that Rumi’s there too, just on Zoey’s other side. Her eyes are so big and pouty that they resemble a very sad, pleading blue cat that they know. “I think someone else wants some kisses.”
“Yes please,” Rumi says, leaning in to kiss Zoey on the lips, just as Mira had done.
As Mira watches them, she sinks further into Zoey’s side, just happy to have both of her girls with her. She gradually falls asleep beside Zoey, her mind finally relaxing enough to get a solid nap.
Later when they prepare to leave Celine’s house, Zoey will ask Mira to help her put on her turtle shirt again. Zoey will feel the sewn fabric between her fingertips and lean into Mira’s side for a hug to show her gratitude. Celine will hand Rumi a giant container of her homemade samgyetang for them to take to the penthouse so they don’t have to worry about meals for a little while.
As they step out the front door, Mira will interlace her fingers with Zoey’s, and she’ll promise to buy that video game for her once they get home. The beaming smile on Zoey’s face will heal every bit of her heart that was torn to shreds by anguish the previous night. When Rumi comes along to hold her other hand, Mira will feel like she could combust with all the love she’s been afforded.
But for now, Mira sleeps beside her two favorite people in the entire world with a smile on her face. Nothing could ever hurt her here, not when they’re together like this.