Chapter Text
Two weeks into their three months of Couch, the first change appears, completely sudden and out of nowhere. It springs into existence, born out of a single innocuous thought.
The evening starts like any other during their hiatus, with Rumi sitting on their beloved couch, gently rolling the end of her braid between her fingers, if only to keep her hands busy. She's restless. She's always been a little bit of a workaholic. And how could she not have been? The harder she worked, the faster they would seal the Honmoon, the faster the world would be safe. The faster she could finally be normal.
"Not knowing how to relax", Mira calls it sometimes. She's not entirely wrong. How could Rumi relax, with the weight of the world on her shoulders? The burden of her lies, the secret of what she really is? How could Rumi relax or take a break when her entire self worth was dependent on sealing the Honmoon and finally getting rid of her patterns for good?
Now though, the Honmoon is sealed. Not just repaired, completely replaced with something stronger, something even more beautiful. The Rainbow Honmoon, as they call it. Gwi-Ma won't be a problem again for a good long while, if he's even still alive at all. The world is safe, her friends are safe.
And yet, the patterns still adorn her skin. Different now, definitely. No longer a deep purple, now they shine a dull iridescent, rainbow-ish colour, matching the new Honmoon, at least when she's content. Sometimes their colour and brightness changes with strong emotions, she's noticed. But they have yet to fade or lessen, as Celine always told her they would.
Obviously.
She's not sure why she ever believed that crazy notion. Perhaps out of sheer desperate hope that there was a way that she could be normal, could be loved. So she clung to that idea, that her patterns would simply vanish once she's earned it, much like her patterns stubbornly cling to her skin.
Of course, they didn't disappear. Not when they defeated Gwi-Ma, not when they created and sealed the Honmoon, and not now, two weeks later, sitting on their couch waiting for Mira and Zoey to carry their takeout dinner over.
Wishful thinking from both her and Celine is all it ever was, she thinks. Even though she's ran from it her entire life, the simple fact of the matter is that she's not human, never has been. At least not fully. She's always been, and will always be, half demon. The Honmoon, while powerful, can't just erase or alter half of her blood, her very DNA.
She accepts it now. Being half demon. It's the truth, always has been.
Accepting that it doesn't diminish her worth in any way is proving to be a slightly harder challenge.
Mira and Zoey help a lot.
The first few days after Gwi-Ma's defeat were filled entirely with long, emotional talks and longer, exhausted silences, with apologies and tears and promises to be better, by all three of them.
Rumi opened up fully; about her demon side, the shame and self hatred that Celine's less than stellar parenting had instilled in her at a young age. She told them that she's always wanted to tell them, how terrified she was of losing them. She explained to them how she started to lose her voice because the shame and the desperation were making her patterns grow, how Jinu helped her start to accept herself. How him showing her that some of the things she's been taught about demons are wrong, that some demons can be good, helped her find peace with her own demon part.
Mira and Zoey were furious. They still are, actually. Not at Rumi, thankfully, but at Celine. Rumi still remembers the righteous anger on Zoey's face, the surprising hatred in Mira's eyes when she told them about how she was raised, how it messed her up, how Celine pressured her to keep her secret from her best friends.
In turn, Mira and Zoey opened up as well, sharing their insecurities and doubts.
Zoey confided in them how Rumi's rejection of her lyrics in Takedown hurt her, how she was terrified of being not good enough, and simultaneously scared of being too much. How in Huntrix, she finally found the place where she belongs, and how, when they broke up, it broke her as well.
Mira overcame her aversion of sharing her feelings and told them how much she loved them. That Rumi and Zoey are her only family and she's incredibly protective of them. So when cracks started to form in their friendship, it scared her, and she blamed herself for not keeping them together, which made her angry at herself. She told them how much finding out Rumi lied to them for years hurt her, because she trusts them implicitly and always puts them first, and finding out that trust isn't reciprocated crushed her.
They cried and held each other for hours, for days, apologies and reassurances and a few death threats toward Celine on their lips, courtesy of Mira. The memories are just a little blurry because of the heavy emotional exhaustion of those days, but Rumi still remembers vividly how she broke down at hearing the first "We love you Rumi. There's nothing wrong with you at all."
She remembers how she and Mira reassured Zoey. Telling her that she's never too much, that she's wonderful and so loved, and without her heart and spirit and her lyrics, they would be nothing.
She remembers the fierce, passionate rants she and Zoey threw at Mira, telling her over and over that they love her too and that they would always be a family. How they reassured Mira again and again that she's their rock, their anchor, with her steady, unshakable presence and how she held no blame in what happened.
She remembers how she apologized to Mira and Zoey, over and over again, for not trusting them with her secret. She called herself stupid, and Zoey berated her, telling her that she isn't stupid. Mira said, "No, she is, a little bit." She remembers their tearful laughter at Mira's usual dry humor.
It felt like healing.
Rumi remembers, most of all, how they all came to the same conclusion: that they're just three flawed people who love each other very much and are terrified of losing one another. So they all agreed on new rules. No more lying, no more hiding, just honest, open communication between them. When there's a problem, a doubt, an insecurity, don't let it fester. Talk it out.
They all promised to be better.
Their friendship is still fragile now, but at the same time stronger than it's ever been. She feels closer to Mira and Zoey than she ever has before and she hopes they feel the same. Bit by bit they're using their hiatus to rebuild their friendship on this new, strong foundation of true trust and deep love.
Too bad that those things, while amazing, just don't keep Rumi as busy as she prefers and is used to. She has a perpetual overflow of restless energy, her mind unable to relax at all. It's gotten so bad today that she can physically feel it, an annoying, constant tingle starting at the fingertips of her right hand and stretching up towards her elbow.
A chant of "Food! Food! Food! Food!" breaks her out of her musing. She frowns when she realizes she's been bouncing her leg relentlessly, and her gentle playing with her braid has turned into harsh twisting. Darn hiatus, leaving her with nothing to do! No world to save, no demons to slay, not even a song to perform or a photo shoot to pose for or a choreography to learn. Rumis's never been so restless before, excess energy thrumming beneath her skin like electricity.
She stops her bouncing and turns to her best friends, both carrying heaps of takeout bags in their arms. They're both comfortably dressed; t-shirts and pajama bottoms and no make-up. No need to dress up for a day of lounging on their couch.
Mira reaches her first, depositing her load of food on the coffee table. She's all long legs and long hair, falling freely down toward her thighs, not done up in the usual twin pigtails that she prefers. On her face, the thick, black-rimmed reading glasses that she needs but never wears out of the house. She looks at ease and soft, in that way that she doesn't show to anyone but Zoey and Rumi.
She's absolutely beautiful and Rumi only manages to look away when Mira sits down on her right side and Zoey comes up from behind her.
Their maknae drops her load of food on the table, still keeping up her enthusiastic chant. She's not wearing pants from what Rumi can see, just a shirt that is so comically oversized on her, she almost certainly stole it from Mira at some point. Not that Mira ever minds sharing her clothes. Zoey's hair is done up in her usual tightly braided buns, much like Rumi in the way she prefers to always have her hair up.
After dumping the food, Zoey lets herself fall backward with an exaggerated sigh, right between the already small amount of space between Mira und Rumi. The result? All three of them squished together, shoulder to shoulder and thighs touching. Not the most practical way to sit to eat, but definitely the way all of them prefer.
It's the kind of casual affection and intimacy that Rumi sorely missed in the weeks leading up to Gwi-Ma's defeat, when she withdrew herself. She's so glad to have it back, this time with no secrets between them, Zoey's bare arm pressed up against her equally bare one, her tank top revealing her patterns for all the world to see.
Not that a simple jacket would be able to hide them now, what with them covering every inch of her, even her face and hands. They've always been growing, but their incredibly accelerated growth the day of Gwi-Ma's defeat shocked and very much dismayed her at the time. She's still getting used to them - to them being everywhere now, to everyone seeing them.
Still getting used to Mira and Zoey knowing now, (what an insane thought!) and yet still Zoey sits so close to her, seemingly having no problem at all with being pressed up against her demon patterns.
Unlike her adoptive mother, who couldn't even look at her, much less touch her.
Her girls love her, truly. The thought still knocks the air out of her, even two weeks later.
She's not sure if it will ever cease to amaze her.
The mouthwatering scent of the food knocks Rumi out of her amazement, and her likely inappropriate staring at her two best friends.
She's starving.
They always get a lot of food, the three of them. Demon hunting, combat training and dance practice, usually all in the same day, takes a lot of calories after all. But the last couple days, Rumi's had to get even more, sometimes eating double what she ate before Gwi-Ma. It makes no sense, especially because she's a lot less physically active during this hiatus. The only physical activity she gets right now is her daily, non negotiable workout, and the walks her girls drag her on to check out this or that place. Usually the bathhouse, which they're ecstatic to take her to.
Still, the hunger gnaws at her almost every second of the day. She blames it on this darn restlessness. Maybe she could use this with Bobby? "Give us work to do, or I'll gain 20 pounds from binge eating out of sheer boredom". Or something like that. It wouldn't be very fair to Mira or Zoey though. They more than earned this break and unlike Rumi, they're actually enjoying having nothing to do.
"Here's your stuff!"
She sends a grateful smile Zoey's way, who's arranging the food on the table so each of them has her own meal in front of her, but still close enough together so they can all share easily, as they always do. Excitedly she turns to her food, Kimbap and rice and a collection of fried goodness and plenty of sides and dipping sauces galore.
"Thanks for the food!" they all say in unison before digging in.
"Ugh, I've been waiting for this all day!" Mira groans. Rumi mumbles out a sound of agreement around a mouthful of Kimbap, her favorite.
"Mira, how can you eat that?"
She glances over to Mira, who's smirking slighty at Zoey in that annoyingly attractive way that she does. Clutched between her chopsticks is a bit of brightly red... something? Rumi has to squint for a second and get a closer look before she recognizes it as Ojingeo Muchim, one of Mira's favorites, but judging by the extreme redness, she ordered it extra extra spicy this time.
"This is the best way to eat it, duh. It's even better than usual. Here, try some."
The dancer sticks her chopsticks in Zoey's face, who recoils like she's been struck.
"No way I'm gonna eat that, it's the colour of a fire truck! And a fire truck is what we're going to need if I put that in my mouth!"
Mira just cackles, waving her chopsticks around some more right in front of Zoey's face.
"Let me try," Rumi says, leaning forward into their maknae's space. Mira acquiesces promptly, moving her chopsticks from under Zoey's nose to Rumi's mouth. As she closes her lips around the bite of squid salad, she hears Zoey mumble, "I think just smelling it burned away my nose hairs."
She and Mira share a grin.
Growing up in America, eating mostly non-spicy food, Zoey's never quite developed the spice tolerance they both have. She's a lot better nowadays than she was when she first moved to South Korea full-time, definitely, but she still prefers milder flavors to what Rumi and especially Mira typically eat. Rumi can handle her spice, but Mira? Mira loves heat. There's a good reason she's called a Spice Queen by their fans on occasion and Rumi can definitely feel it as she chews the, as Zoey appropriately called it, firetruck-red squid salad.
Usually this side dish is tangy and sweet along with the spice, but she can barely taste it now over the heat.
"It's good," she mumbles through her bite, "but I prefer the original."
Mira shrugs.
"More for me."
The half demon leans back out of Zoey's space and reaches for a box of fried goodies on the table. When she settles back into their plush couch, there's a tiny bit more space between her and Zoey, their shoulders no longer touching.
Apparently it's too much distance for Zoey to bear; she slips her arm around Rumi's and firmly pulls her back over until they're pressed against each other again, their elbows now linked as well.
She glances at Zoey questioningly, but the younger woman isn't paying attention to her. She seems to be busy shoving her mouth as full of cheese-loaded tteobokki as humanly possible, cheeks adorably stuffed like a chipmunk. On Zoey's other side, though, Rumi catches Mira watching them, a soft, affectionate look in her eyes. Flustered, she quickly adverts her gaze, stuffing a fried shrimp into her mouth with her left hand since her right one has been taken hostage.
Zoey's fingers link with Rumi's gently, but she still doesn't acknowledge Rumi in any way.
Did Zoey pull her closer... unconsciously?
She glances down at her fingers linked with Zoey's. Their contrast is oddly beautiful; Zoey's fingers both shorter and stronger than her own, slightly calloused and dexterous at the same time, from years of handling knifes and pens and writing out endless lyrics. Her skin slightly more tan than Rumi's, both from growing up in the Californian sun and because she simply leaves the house more.
Rumi's fingers are partly covered in iridescent marks, where her patterns snake lower, across her wrist, the back of her hands and her palms, to wrap around her fingers like vines. The patterns were muted a minute ago like they always are when she is simply content, but now, where Zoey is touching them, they seem to glow ever so slightly brighter, their shimmer catching in the bright overhead lights. A sign of happiness.
Or maybe it's not specifically the touch that's making them brighter, that's making her happy? Maybe it's the thought that Zoey pulled her closer, linked their hands together even, not out of conscious action but out of a pure desire to be closer to Rumi. Even unconsciously, she noticed when Rumi was farther away and missed her enough to pull her back.
Either way, her patterns are clearly shimmering brighter, reacting to her happiness, to the exhilarated beating of her heart.
Traitors.
God, she hopes Mira's not still watching them.
Mira is incredibly observant and she knows Rumi better than anyone else in the world. She'll know she's reacting abnormally to Zoey's touch. But how could she not? Ever since her secret was revealed, her walls have been falling down, bit by bit, every day. Every day she feels more things, more intensely, now that she's not shoving everything down. Now that she's letting herself feel these things, finally.
It's a cruel fate, really. She should be used to Zoey's touch. She should be used to Mira's small smiles, her steady presence. Should be used to how darn good both of them smell-
With a quiet huff and another handful of fried shrimp in her mouth, she stops that thought.
It's this restlessness. It has to be. It's messing with her, making her hungry, making her tingle, making her react oddly to perfectly normal displays of affection from her two best friends.
Stupid hiatus.
Suddenly, the fingers linked with hers tighten, squeezing her almost painfully, and then Zoey tugs hard, flailing her hand around.
Startled out of her thoughts once again, her head whips in the direction of their maknae, alarmed. She's currently coughing and sputtering, red in the face, wheezing out something that sounds like, "Call an ambulance! Call an ambulance!" Just beyond her, Mira, still holding chopsticks covered in gochujang, winces, a strange mix of guilt and amusement on her face.
Apparently Mira has managed to convince Zoey to try her extra spicy squid salad after all.
"Mira," Rumi admonishes quietly, gently (sadly) untangling her fingers from Zoey's and reaching for her own drink on the table.
"Sorry babes," the dancer apologizes, draping her long arm over Zoey's shoulder in a side hug as Rumi holds the straw right in front of her overdramatic friend's mouth.
She tries not to stare as Zoey desperately seals her pink, soft looking lips around the straw, the first greedy sip making her groan in relief like a starving man who finally found water. Rumi smiles. There's nothing that beats the heat quite like ice cold Hwachae, the strawberry milk not only one of Zoey's favorites, but also a balm for her mouth.
"I didn't know it would hit you that bad," Mira continues, squeezing Zoey around the shoulder in apology.
The youngest finally stops her desperate sips and Rumi is sure at least half of her Hwachae is gone now. Oh well. Zoey would've gotten her hands on it at some point anyway, stealing all the mango bits, while Mira, who likes to pretend she's above food-napping, but really isn't, would've picked out all the watermelon soon as well.
The things she does for her girls.
"How isn't it hitting you that bad?!" Zoey pouts, eyes still a little watery and face red. "That stuff is borderline demonic!"
Suddenly, she turns to Rumi, startling her again. Her eyes are wide, her pain seemingly forgotten.
"No offense! Sorry, I didn't mean demonic, there's nothing wrong with being demonic-"
She bursts out laughing at the same time as Mira starts cackling, which only deepens Zoey's pout.
"Zoey- oh jeez- I'm not offended, I promise."
She gives Zoey a bright smile, her friend still looking just a tad guilty. To alleviate her worry, she reaches down into the box of food still on her lap and presents Zoey with her last shrimp. The grease would probably help further with the spice as well.
The rapper exhales and Rumi can smell both the chili and some strawberry in it. Her shoulders, still wrapped up in Mira's embrace, relax and she happily takes the proffered shrimp, popping it in her mouth whole.
Mira laughs again, but this time, instead of a cackle, it's a small, deep sound, little more than a quick exhale of breath, but warm and rich like hot chocolate. There's warmth and affection in her gaze as she leans over and presses a tender kiss to Zoey's temple. Too tender of a kiss to be platonic. Zoey in turn looks up at her and smiles a beautiful smile, the same affection in her eyes.
Rumi's heart thuds, both pleasantly and unpleasantly. She turns to put her cup of Hwachae back on the table again, giving her friends some privacy for a second.
She's known for a while now that there's something more than friendship between them. They've always been close. Closer to each other than to Rumi certainly. She's missed many hangouts, not just their bathhouse trips, both in fear of them discovering her secret, and because she is a workaholic, often preferring to work just a little more over spending leisure time hanging out with her friends.
There were a lot of times for them to be alone, for them to fall for each other.
And she's not even sure why it upsets her, sometimes, when she sees them be romantic together. It's not like she's overly third wheeling, on the contrary, Mira and Zoey always insist that she join them. They always invite her along, they always make space for her. And they make it clear with both words and actions that they want Rumi around.
So why does her heart twinge sometimes when she catches them hugging just a little too long to be friendly, sitting just a little too close to be platonic? What's this feeling in her chest when she sees them share tender looks and kisses?
It's the restlessness, her mind helpfully supplies. Her heart disagrees. She ignores it.
Whatever it is, she won't let it ruin her relationship with her friends. They've only just reunited from their breakup, they're still rebuilding what she broke by not trusting them, by being a bad friend. She won't let anything come between them again, least of all these weird feelings- the restlessness in her chest. She will be a good friend, someone who doesn't get jealous when she sees them kiss, someone who doesn't get butterflies in her belly at totally normal, totally platonic touches. Yes.
Determined, she falls back onto the couch after depositing her cup on the table, just like earlier putting a little bit of distance between her and Zoey again, this time consciously. Not enough for it to be weird, but enough so that they're not pressed up against each other anymore.
She looks to her friends again to see if the tender moment between them has passed and- oh.
Both of them are turned towards her. This time, instead of not paying attention to Rumi, Zoey is looking right at her, or more specifically, at the bit of couch that is visible between them, a pout on her face again.
Her gaze lifts up, locking eyes with Rumi, brown eyes filled with an emotion the Idol can't place. And then, just like earlier, she reaches out and winds her arm around Rumi's patterned one, and pulls her firmly over until they're pressed together again, so close that if she were any closer, she'd be in Zoey's lap.
Goosebumps erupt where Zoey's fingers glide over her arm, down, down, over her wrist and her palm until once again, their fingers are tightly linked together. Only then does the pout leave the rapper's face, replaced by the same bright smile she gifted Mira earlier, but this time directed at Rumi.
She's blushing, she knows she is. She can feel it in the way her face heats, in the way her heartbeat accelerates. Warily, unsurely, she glances to Mira, expecting to see- well she isn't really sure what she's expecting to see. Jealousy? Unease? Annoyance that Rumi is encroaching on her time with her girlfriend?
She doesn't find any of those things on Mira's face. Instead, her face still looks exactly the same as the last time she saw it: a soft smile, eyes almost bursting with warmth and affection and something Rumi doesn't dare name, not even in her own head. But her gaze this time trained right on Rumi, not Zoey. Briefly, she wonders if Mira would press a tender kiss to her temple as well, were Zoey not squeezed between them.
That thought makes her flush even more.
The three are the closest now than they've been all day, with Zoey happily being squished, elbow and fingers linked with Rumi and Mira's arm thrown over her shoulder, the dancer's knuckles slowly stroking over Rumi's upper arm where it's pressed to Zoey's.
Rumi's not sure where to look, wanting to avoid her friend's eyes and also avoid looking down at herself. She doesn't even want to know how much her patterns are betraying her right now, how brightly they're shimmering.
Traitors.
Instead, she keep her eyes firmly trained on their giant TV on the wall, pretending not to see the reflection of her patterns in it.
"Want to watch a movie?" she hears Zoey ask, right next to her ear. She's still reluctant to look at her friends, but it would be rude to ignore a direct question, so Rumi turns her head to the side and wow. There's barely a handful of inches between their faces. From this distance, Zoey's freckles are easily visible on her make-up free face, dusting her nose and the tops of her full cheeks like stars in the night sky. Long lashes frame her bright, inquisitive eyes, a beautiful milk chocolate brown. Darker than Mira's, but lighter than Rumi's own dark drown eyes.
She's gorgeous.
It's only when Zoey tilts her head to the side adorably and her gaze turns more questioning than inquisitive that Rumi realizes she's been mutedly staring at Zoey like an idiot for- god how long has it even been? And what was the question again?
"Yeah, sure," she croaks out, clearing her throat once, twice, hoping it's the right answer. She hears Mira snort on Zoey's other side.
Will she ever stop blushing? Who knows.
Apparently she answers correctly, because Zoey brightens even more and squeezes her hand.
"Yesss, what do you guys want to watch?"
Before either Mira or Rumi can reply, she keeps going: "Ohh, Spiderman?"
She turns to Rumi with big pleading eyes and Rumi would like to say that she doesn't cave immediately, but. She caves immediately. At least Zoey, squished between them as she is, can only look at one of them at a time and while she's assaulting Rumi, Mira takes her chance.
"You always want to watch Spiderman," she complains.
Zoey turns the full power of her puppy dog eyes onto Mira, and Rumi's glad it's not her anymore. That face is a weapon.
"Duh, they're the best movies ever."
"We've already watched Into The Spiderverse three times this hiatus and it's only been two weeks," Mira argues, weakly. She is not immune to Zoey's adorable charm, as much as she likes to pretend otherwise.
"Well Rumi already said yes so it's two on one anyway, you're outvoted. AND you owe me after almost killing me with that Ojingeo Muchim!"
Rumi doesn't remember saying yes, but her brain's not working correctly right now, so. Whatever.
"Fine, fine! We can watch the stupid spider movie again." The obvious fondness in Mira's voice pairs well with her eye roll, Rumi thinks. Add in that little affectionate smile on her lips and she looks devastatingly attractive.
Zoey relaxes into the couch, happily, triumphantly.
Seeing as Rumi's closest to where the TV remote is half buried under a discarded blanket from earlier, she grabs it and puts herself in charge of their impromptu movie night. She's happy to have something to do at least.
"English or Korean?" she asks. Sometimes Zoey prefers one over the other, though neither Rumi nor Mira have been able to find a pattern in it yet. Their only theory currently is that Zoey prefers English when she's missing her childhood home, her father or her half siblings. They're both flexible though and happy to adjust to Zoey's needs.
"Either's good," she murmurs back, so Rumi sets it to Korean, which she and Mira have an easier time with and starts the movie.
They get about twenty seconds in before Zoey mumbles into her ear: "Can I have the rest of your Hwachae? And the mango?"
She tries to suppress a smirk, called it, and simply leans forward to grab her cup from the table again without looking over at Zoey. There's no doubt in Rumi's mind that there would be another pleading look on her friend's pretty face, and her brain only just started working again.
Zoey gasps exitedly as she is handed the cup and out of the corner of her eye Rumi can see Mira already eyeing it greedily as well.
She smirks fully.
Her girls are so predictable.